


Heaven Knows

by CastielLordOfTheBees



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anna And Castiel Are Twins, Attempt at Humor, Badass!Cas, Bisexual Dean, Bobby and Ellen are much better parents to Dean and Sam than John is, Boys In Love, Bullying, Child Neglect, Closeted Character, Crushes, Dean Needs to Use His Words, Dean and Cas are morons, Did I Mention How Much I Hate John Winchester?, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, GSA, Gay Straight Alliance, Genius!Dean, Gun Violence, Homophobia, Homophobic John Winchester, Homophobic Language, Hunter Family, I apologize in advance, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm so sorry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealous Dean, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Many different orientations represented, Meg is kind of a bitch but i still like her, Mild Sexual Content, Oblivious Castiel, Pining Castiel, Pining Dean, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Potentially triggering, Recreational Drug Use, School Shootings, Self-Esteem Issues, Supernatural Elements, The Author Regrets Everything, Yes they're hunters in this, family don't end with blood - Freeform, school fights, so much pining, use of offensive language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:05:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2582429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielLordOfTheBees/pseuds/CastielLordOfTheBees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a violent school shooting causes the permanent shutdown of St. Michael's Catholic High School by the  archdiocese, students are forced to transfer to the nearest public school, Lawrence High.<br/>Or<br/>The one where Castiel is the not-so-innocent Catholic schoolboy and best friend of the shooter and Dean is the closeted genius and hunter of the supernatural, who believes that the story of the St. Michael's shooting is far from over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Aftermath.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Potentially triggering content. If gun violence is a trigger for you, I would suggest not reading this.
> 
> This is my first fic in, well, years actually, so please cut me some slack if it isn't exactly the most eloquent thing you've ever read in your life. I would truly appreciate you all just giving me a chance here, giving this story a chance. I know the content is potentially triggering, as proven by the fact that I actually put it in the tags, but I swear I'll do my best to be sensitive about the topic, especially considering the news lately. I actually started writing this about a month and a half ago and only just found the inspiration to finish it last night. And excuse me if I'm a bit rusty.  
> Also, this chapter is un-betaed, so please excuse that for now, but I am looking for a beta for this fic, if anyone is interested. Just leave a comment saying something along those lines, I guess.

 

_“Sometimes the feelings inside me get messy, like dirt. And I like to clean things. Pretend the dirt is the feelings. This floor is my mind. That is called coping.”_

**\- Suzanne “Crazy Eyes” Warren, Orange is the New Black**

 

•○•○•

 

_Screams, people rushing passed him to get away- to get anywhere but that hallway. A younger brunette girl falls to the ground facing him, clutching her stomach, hands quickly stained with dark blood, her eyes widening in shock and she makes a small noise, like she's attempting to speak. Oh god, he's frozen on the spot, can't move, can barely even breath. This girl is dying and he can't even pull himself together._

_Her eyes grow wide and she now seems to be fighting to get even a word out, her lungs, when she coughs sound like they're full of liquid. Blood. She's drowning in her own blood. The girl is going to die and it will be all his fault. All his damn fault. She coughs, once, twice more and takes one last gulp of air before she stills. She lays in the middle of the hall, her petite body surrounded in a pool of maroon._

_Her unseeing eyes stare in his direction, the last place she had looked before it was all over, and her eyes, despite their lifelessness, seem to ask him, 'Why? Why did you just stand there?'. He should have done something. He was right there, standing not ten feet away from her with a fully-charged cellphone tucked in his pocket, completely capable of helping her in some way, or at least trying. He didn't though. Why didn't he? Why did he just stand there like a useless statue. He let her die. Hell, he might as well have pulled the trigger himself. It was his fault._

_His mind screamed at him, so loud he can't hear the sound of feet pounding on the ground, heading his way. He feels a hand rest on his shoulder, and a voice, though it sounds far far away asks him if he's okay. His throat feels like it's caving in, an avalanche waiting to happen. He can't bring himself to speak, but shakes his head, the voice in his head getting louder still. 'ALLYOURFAULT.ALLYOURFAULT.ALLYOURFAULT'._

 

Castiel jolted awake to the sound of his alarm, looking around his bedroom, breathing heavily, sweat causing his messy hair to stick to his forehead. The sun was shining in from the space between his curtains, telling him that it was, in fact, morning this time. He placed his head in his hands, trying to will his heartbeat to just slow down, just please slow down, and trying to force air into his lungs.

Three weeks had passed since that tragedy and he was still having the nightmares, still waking up several times a night, the nightmares having felt so real that he usually needed a few minutes to fully convince himself that it had only been a dream. His counselor, Naomi, had told him vivid nightmares were completely normal for a survivor of a traumatic incident, especially taking into account _what_ he had witnessed. She said the nightmares would start to go away eventually, but had given him medicine to help him sleep in the mean time. So much for that.

He climbed out of bed, his covers a bit damp from his sweating throughout the night, and glanced at the mirror on the back of his closet door. He looked like hell. His hair, which was usually a mess, was now damp on top of looking like a bird's nest, and he had dark bags under his bloodshot eyes. He would definitely need a shower before even attempting to join the world of the living.

He grabbed a set of clothes for the day- Guns & Roses tee, black jeans, and, embarrassingly, a pair of Superman boxers and headed for the door. Unfortunately, however, the second he opened his door he came face to face with his brother, Gabriel, hand already poised to knock.

“Hey, little bro, you-” He paused, suddenly not as energetic and happy, taking in his younger sibling's disheveled appearance and gave him a sympathetic look, though he tried to mask it with a small smile. “sort of look like shit. You okay?”

Castiel pushed past him, heading for the closet that contained the towels, not meeting his brother's eyes. “Yeah, Gabe, just fucking peachy.”

Gabe held up both hands in, his mouth open in feigned surprise. “You know, I just came up here to check in on my favorite baby brother and I'm feeling very attacked right now.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at his older brother's immaturity, but secretly, he was thankful. At least his brother was still acting like a goofball, if a bit subdued. “I'm getting in the shower. Goodbye, Gabriel.”

“Glad to see your empathetic side is still intact!” Gabe called out as Castiel the door shut behind him. Sometimes Castiel seriously wondered if he were adopted, or if Gabriel might just be a member of some kind of extraterrestrial species that his family had found and taken in out of pity. Yeah, either one of those sounded about right.

 

•○•○•

 

“So, the transfer kids coming in today?” Dean asked, his mouth full of bagel. He was rummaging through his locker, trying to find his AP Calc homework.

Dean had never really been one for organization, but he was seriously considering asking Sammy for help with sorting out his locker. Between folders and notebooks and textbooks and, last but certainly not least, his comic books, his locker looked like a tornado had come in and devastated it. The only thing even vaguely organized was a magnetic basket hanging on the door, holding all of his writing utensils.

“Today is supposed to be their first day,” replied Charlie, his best friend and fellow diehard nerd. She crinkled her nose in disgust at his open mouth and turned her face away from him. “Do you really have to talk with your mouth full? Swallow or shut up.”

“But you love me,” Dean said with a small smirk directed at her.

She sighed, clearly having given up on the lost cause that was Dean's manners, “Unfortunately.”

“So,” Dean said, finally swallowing his bite, “What do you think they're going to be like?”

“How should I know?” Charlie asked, “I've never even met any of them. We don't exactly run in the same type of crowds.” She raised an eyebrow for emphasis and snatched the bagel from her friend's hand, tearing off a piece.

“Hey!” Dean said, glaring. “Get your own, Red.”

“Hey yourself, Deano,” Charlie smirked, handing the rest back. “You still owe me for the coffee I brought you yesterday.”

“You mean that rocket fuel shit I was forced to ingest was actually _coffee_?” Having, by some wonderful miracle, found his textbook, he slammed the locker shut. A crash sounded from inside, making Dean sigh. Well, guess there went all of his pens and pencils into the rest of the mess.

“Ever think that maybe you ought to do some cleaning in there?” Charlie asked.

“Ever think that maybe you should consider who gives you rides everywhere, Ms. Bradbury?” Dean replied.

“That would be me, Mr. Winchester.” said a familiar voice.

Dorothy Baum flashed him a smile before turning her full attention to Charlie, whose face had lit up the instant her girlfriend had arrived. She leaned in and pecked her girlfriend on the lips, thankfully keeping it chaste. Dean loved them both dearly, but the sight of the two of them, his best friends, making out would make him incredibly uncomfortable... and a little nauseous.

Dean scoffed, giving Dorothy a look. “Yeah, right. Then how do you explain me having to pick this one up and take her to the comic book store yesterday?”

“Really? You were probably going to end up there on your own sometime soon anyway,” Dorothy said. “I just gave you an opportunity. Besides, one of your geek books must have a new issue out.”

“Okay one, they're not geek books, Baum, and two, she's _your_ girlfriend,” Dean argued.

“And she's _your_ best friend,” the brunette said with a smug smile playing on her lips. “Best friend tromps girlfriend in terms of responsibility. Bros before hoes, or whatever.”

“Could you both kindly shut up? It's only 8:00 am and I'm already developing a migraine.” Charlie moaned.

Thankfully, before the two of them could continue their argument, the warning bell rang, signaling their need to be in homeroom right about then. They went their separate ways, Dean to his homeroom and the girls to theirs, but Dean could still hear Charlie's mutter something about her 'questionable choice in company'.

 

•○•○•

 

As far as schools go, Lawrence Junior-Senior High School wasn't exactly the worst he'd ever seen. It was, from what he'd gathered so far, made up of 4 buildings, one containing the gym, another the middle school, and the last two housing classes for the upperclassmen. At St. Michael's, Castiel was used to seeing students from K-12, so this was nothing new to him. He couldn't exactly say he would miss the presence of the younger students, but it might require some time to fully get used to.

His first obstacle came during homeroom in the form of an overly-perky girl named Becky. She was plenty friendly, maybe even a little _too_ friendly, but Castiel couldn't help but want to put his head through the wall listening to her. For the entire walk from homeroom to his first period class, he was forced to listen to her theories on the homoeroticism present between Captain Kirk and Spock. He, personally, agreed with her, because really, the hands on the window scene practically _screamed_ homo, but refused to say so out of fear of her never leaving his side. The last thing he needed, after everything, was a blabbering shadow. When they arrived at the door to his AP Calc class, Castiel bid her goodbye with a forced kind smile, to which she positively beamed, and entered the classroom quickly- so quickly, in fact, that he tumbled into another person who was heading for the door.

“Sorry, man. I didn't see you there.” said a gravely baritone voice. Castiel looked up and met a pair of bright green eyes and a shy smile.

Castiel looked the boy in front of him up and down. “It's fine...”

“Dean,” Dean said, flushing. “First day?”

“Castiel. And how can you tell?” Castiel asked.

“Well,” Dean said with a small chuckle that Castiel couldn't help but smile at. “for one, I've never seen you around before. Ya, know, the whole small school, everyone knows everyone kind of thing, and two, you were just trying to escape Becky Rosen.”

“She's not that bad,” Castiel said, though it was clear his defense was weak when Dean simply raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Becky wasn't exactly the type of person he wanted to spend time with, let alone be roped into a friendship with. “Okay so maybe she is a bit... obsessive.”

Dean opened his mouth to say more, but right at that moment, a rather short man in a dark suit walked in, standing at the front of the class. A few others were still standing, visiting at friend's desks and seemingly unaware of the teacher's presence.

The man cleared his throat, causing students to, with sheepish smiles in the man's direction, return to their desks. He glanced towards the doorway where he and Dean still stood, shooting them a pointed look, and said in an unexpected yet somehow fitting British accent, “Unless you both are planning on leaving us sometime soon, I would suggest taking a seat.”

Dean flushed a bit, but nodded and headed for a seat in the back. Castiel followed until about halfway before he realized that, while he had been nothing but nice to him, Dean never really invited him. Instead, he took one of the empty seats in the middle of the classroom. He felt eyes on him from all sides, people curious about one of the kids from that school, and he couldn't help but internally groan. It's not as if he were the only St. Michael's student in the class, in fact, two of them were sat just two rows to his right, Raphael and Hannah.

_But you're much more interesting than those two, aren't you?_

But really, it was ridiculous- how could they possibly know already? It was only the first day and he had hardly spoken a word to anyone thus far, only Dean, and he hadn't exactly ran his mouth about it. No, he was just being paranoid. They were simply curious because of where he was from, nothing more. For now, that is.

 


	2. Thermodynamics? Nah, I Think I'll Study You Instead.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly filler and backstory, but I tried to make up for it with a bit of fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and edited this because it was atrocious, so to anyone that noticed that I posted this (well, the original version) last night, you aren't crazy. I just couldn't leave it up like it was. I really need to learn to wait to post so I can be absolutely sure I like it, but whatever, it's fixed now.

 

_"I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you.”_   
**―Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince**

 

•○•○•

 

 

When Dean reached the back of the room, apparently alone, as proven by the sight of Castiel sitting in the middle of the room, Charlie and Dorothy shared a sly look. Dean knew that look, hell, he _feared t_ hat look. That look never meant anything good for him.

“So,” Charlie began innocently, “Who's the new kid?”

Dean groaned, knowing exactly where this was going. Curse him for not being so damn obvious about everything. “Charlie, please just leave it be, okay? Just this once.”

“No can do, Dean-o,” added Dorothy with a grin. “We made it our New Year's Resolution this year to get you laid, and laid you shall get.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at his friends. “You dedicated your New Year's Resolution to my sex life?”

“Doesn't that say a lot, though?” Dorothy asked. Dean simply glared at her, plopping down in the seat behind Charlie.

“Please?” Charlie asked, her voice quiet and her eyes showing nothing but honest concern. “After everything with Lisa-”

“No, we're not talking about that.” Dean said, but once he saw the wounded expression on his best friend's face, he caved. “Okay, fine. His name is Castiel, or, well, Cas.”

“Cas, huh?” Charlie said, smiling at her friend. “Already giving him a nickname?”

“Shut up,” Dean said, smacking her lightly with his notebook as his face flushed.

Dorothy chuckled. “So, when should we be expecting our wedding invites in the mail, Winchester?”

By this point Dean's cheeks were practically glowing with how red they were. He looked down at his desk, muttering, “I hate you both.”

They both smiled at him, “Aw, we love you, too.” Charlie replied, patting her friend on the head. “Now, we've just gotta get you your man.”

Dean just sighed, knowing better than to argue. Instead, his eyes landed on a familiar hair of messy dark hair a few rows over and toward the front. The boy was furiously writing away, although he probably didn't even need to, given it was only his first day. His face was all scrunched-up with concentration, just slightly frustrated and completely adorable.

 _Adorable, D_ ean thought, fighting the urge to groan from his dissatisfaction, _Great._

He was so fucking screwed.

 

•○•○•

 

Castiel, over the course of his day, had heard many things said about him. It was kind of funny, really, how he could be there for only one day and already have people thinking they had him all figured out. That morning, in English, he'd heard the first rumor about him. Apparently, according to some dark-haired girl, who he later learned was named Alex, sitting a few rows over from him, he had actually been involved in the... incident. Hell, she'd said, maybe he'd helped orchestrate the whole thing and the cops just couldn't prove it.

By fifth period, he actually had to lay his head down on his desk, he was so exhausted. Having heard at least six different variations of the same rumor, he just couldn't deal with it anymore. He'd kind of expected this, considering how it all went down, but this? This was extreme.

Before he knew it, he was being snapped out of it by a familiar baritone. “Hey, Cas- buddy, you okay?”

He lifted his head up, glanced to his side where Dean stood, looking concerned. “Cas?” he asked.

Dean blushed, then looked down at his feet in an attempt to hide it, rubbing the back of his neck in what looked like embarrassment. “I um, well, Castiel is kind of a mouthful, isn't it?”

“I see,” Castiel said, considering it. _Cas._ It was much better than Gabriel calling him Cassie, he supposed.

“It's okay if you don't like it, though. Don't just go with it on my account.” Dean assured, hurriedly. His blush had darkened to show off his freckles. _Freckles!_ Could he get anymore adorable?

“No, no,” Castiel said, shaking his head and flashing him a small, r _eal_ smile. “It's fine, I- I think I like it.”

Dean let out a breath, relief spreading across his handsome face. “Great.”

They just continued looking at each other for a moment before they looked away, a blush breaking out on both of their faces.

“Right,” Dean cleared his throat, meeting the other boy's gaze hesitantly. “Would you mind if I sat here? I mean, it's totally fine if you're saving the seat for someone, I just, um- I was just wondering.”

Cas, while Dean was still mid-sentence, pulled out the chair next to him and gestured toward it with his hand. “Dean, just take the seat.”

“Right,” he repeated, sitting down with an almost shocked expression on his face, like he couldn't quite believe that Cas had said yes. It made him sad, seeing that look on the face of someone who seemed so kind. Dean fidgeted in his seat some, looking a bit overwhelmed. “Um-”

“So Physics, huh?” Cas asked, trying to distract the other boy, who seemed to be getting more uneasy by the second. He hoped it wasn't because of him. “You must be really smart.”

Before Dean could get a single word out, the lesson began. Mr. Devereaux spent the period yammering on about Thermodynamics, while Castiel scribbled down notes as well as try to keep up with what he was actually saying. Dean, however, seemed to be having no trouble at all, only occasionally copying something down. And, yet, despite his lack of note taking, every single time Mr. Devereaux asked a question, Dean had the answer.

Castiel, while he wasn't exactly stupid, could never do any of that. He got good grades because he worked his ass off for them, studying late into the night and throwing himself into his work to get the A's he so desperately wanted. But Dean Winchester, he seemed to be another story entirely.

 

•○•○•

 

When Dean came home after school to find his father's boots sitting next to the door, his stomach dropped. It wasn't that he wasn't happy to have his father there, really, he was, but whenever John Winchester came home, there was the potential for trouble.

“Dean?” he heard called from what sounded like the living room, “Is that you, son?”

“Yeah, Dad, it's me.” Dean replied, slipping off his boots and setting them next to his father's. He made his way to the living room entry way, leaning around and peering at John, who was settled at the cluttered desk next to the patio door. “Sammy's at debate club, so he should be home by four.”

“And who's picking him up?” his father asked, absentmindedly, as he shifted through a file in his hand.

“One of his little nerd friends' mom is supposed to drive him home after.” Dean entered the room fully, moving to sit near his father, which just so happened to be on the loveseat.

“Dean, you shouldn't be handing out responsibilities like that to other people.” John said, shaking his head and finally looking up from his work, his face conveying his disappointment in Dean. Then again, what else was new. “Sam is _your_ responsibility when I'm gone, not the whole damn town's.”

“I'm sorry, I just-” Dean tried, but knew it was pointless, so simply trailed off. He just wanted to come home and get started on his homework, to work on the extra work Mr. Devereaux had given him when he had managed to move a full chapter ahead of the rest of the class, hell, maybe he just wanted an hour of just him and Charlie trash-talking to each other over a game of GTA. But he knew none of that would matter to John, so he didn't bother. “I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again.”

John nodded, looking pleased. “Good,” he said, picking up the file once again, only this time gesturing for Dean to come forward.

Dean made to leave the room and head upstairs, but just before he crossed the threshold, John said, “And Dean?”

“Yes, sir?” Dean replied, trying to think of what else he could have possibly done wrong. He'd kept Sam fed, clothed, and safe, so he wasn't quite sure what else it could be.

“There's a Rugaru problem in Kentucky, so I'll be gone for about a week or two.” John told him. He looked at his son seriously, “I don't need to remind you what I need you to do, do I?”

“Look after Sammy,” Dean replied automatically, the concept practically drilled into his brain from years of having it said to him. He knew his job, his place in their family. He was to protect Sammy no matter what, from anything that could do him harm.

But, he sometimes wondered, whose job was it to protect him?

•○•○•

 

Upon arriving home, Castiel was greeted with the sight of his twin bundled up on the couch in a big fleece blanket, her eyes watery and nose red from blowing it. Despite all of this, Anna grinned when she saw him, waving him over.

Castiel sighed, plopping down next to her on the couch, letting his legs drape over his sister's. “I can't believe Michael let you stay home.”

“Excuse me?” Anna responded, making a grand gesture toward herself. “Does my snot and zombiness seriously not equate to being sick enough to stay home?”

Castiel shrugged, sinking back into couch cushions with a sigh. “I don't know. I just... today was an interesting day.”

“Oh?” Anna asked, her interest peaked. “How do you mean?”

Castiel, much to his sister's surprise, actually began to blush a bit. “I um,” he cleared his throat. “I sort of met this guy-”

“A guy?” Anna squealed excitedly, moving over to sit closer to her brother and pinching his cheek. “Oh, my baby brother has a crush!”

“Okay,” Cas began, rubbing his cheek where she'd pinched. “One, _ouch._ And two, you're 12 minutes older, get over it.”

Anna's grin widened. “You didn't deny the crush though.”

He looked down at his hands folded in his lap. “I've only known him a day, Anna. One day does not a crush make.”

“Maybe not,” Anna conceded. “But you certainly have the potential to form one.”

“Okay, enough of that.” Cas said, standing up and stretching. “I'm going to go upstairs and... do something else.”

As he turned to leave, though, he came face to face with Gabe, who was carrying an armful of snacks. His shoulders seemed to sag at Cas' words, and he lowered his stash onto the coffee table.

“Cassie isn't joining us for Novak family movie night?” he asked, a frown forming. “But it's tradition.”

Cas blinked, confused. “Since when?” To the best of Cas' knowledge, the Novak family had never had a family movie night. Hell, he couldn't even remember the last time they had all sat down to do anything together outside of going to Mass.

“God, Cassie,” Gabe groaned, settling down on the couch. “Maybe I wanted to start a new tradition. And with everything lately, we could definitely use something new around here.”

Cas couldn't exactly argue with him there. Instead, he settled down for a movie marathon with his brother and sister, after, of course, fighting over what to watch and finally deciding on _Poltergeist_.

After about five different movies- Michael joined them by about the third one, once he'd arrived home from class- and consuming way too much junk food to ever be justifiable, Cas finally was let to go upstairs. He showered quickly before crawling into bed for the night, looking up at the ceiling. His mind kept being drawn back to that day and to the bright green eyes of the boy he couldn't stop thinking about. Dean Winchester was really something else. He was smart, kind, and just all around wonderful. This boy he'd only known for one day had already managed to utterly take hold of his thoughts, and he didn't seem to be letting go anytime soon.

 


	3. cute boys with pretty blue eyes and sexy half-smirks are nerve-wracking as fuck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean & Cas fluff plus a healthy dose of sarcasm from the lovely Miss Dorothy Baum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I probably wouldn't be posting until Thanksgiving break, but I've actually been having a rough time lately, especially in the past few days, and writing has been kind of therapeutic for me. So I guess it's a win-win situation, huh? I get to distract myself with writing and you guys get to read it.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.  
> P.S. Sorry it's a bit shorter than usual, but, again, I'm planning to work on another chapter during my Thanksgiving break.

 

_"Love does not appear with any warning signs. You fall into it as if pushed from a high diving board. No time to think about what's happening. It's inevitable. An event you can't control. A crazy, heart-stopping, roller-coaster ride that just has to take its course.”_   
**\- Jackie Collins, Lucky**

 

•○•○•

 

Charlie, being her usual pain in the ass self, absolutely _insisted_ on meeting Cas. In her book, which is essentially an odd assortment of rules that she made up on the spot to fit her need at any given moment, Rule #139 clearly stated that _“It is the right of a person's best friend to meet, quiz, and judge any new love interest.”_ Which was really pretty damn hilarious, because Dean never had that right with Dorothy. Charlie had just wandered over to his locker like she did every morning, but that time, with her hand on the small of the pretty brunette's back, and introduced her as her girlfriend. No prior warning or right to judge whatsoever.

Also, she had added, after having to listen to Dean gush over Castiel for hours on end on the phone while Dorothy was over and her Aunt Abby was out, because come _on_ , how often does a miracle like that come along? She and Dorothy could have been making the time count, but instead she had to listen to Dean pine like a preteen with a crush. Dean, with his cheeks stained deep scarlet, finally relented.

They were on their way to Dean's locker before lunch when it was brought up, prompted by the sight of Castiel gathering his own afternoon books about ten lockers down from him. He looked frustrated, slamming his palm against the metal object when it refused to open. Dean, for a moment, considered going over to help, but he knew Charlie could just use that to her advantage and he refused to be the one to feed the beast.

“We're not even together,” Dean argued, although he knew it was pointless. When Charlie had her mind set on something, there is absolutely no stopping her; you could build a wall a mile high around the situation and she'd still find some way to get through it.

But, really, what grounds did he have to think that he may have a chance with Cas? Catching Cas looking in his direction a handful of times during Physics didn't necessarily mean anything. Maybe Dean was just sitting in the way of something he was trying to see, and he looked away when Dean glanced up because he didn't want Dean to assume exactly what he was assuming.

Anyway, who's to even say that Cas liked dudes anyway? He was probably straight. Definitely, unattainable and straight.

“Yet,” Charlie corrected, wagging her finger at him. “The key word in that statement should be yet. And I will get the two of you together even if it kills me. Now, go invite that boy to sit with us. I wanna meet my future best-friend-in-law.”

“I hate to tell you this, but I don't think that's a thing, Charls.” Dean said with a small smirk, but began walking anyway, knowing that fighting with her any longer would just make things worse. Plus, he kind of did want to spend lunch with Cas, even if it was with the company of his nosy best friend and her equally nosy girlfriend.

The aforementioned boy still stood at his locker, which he'd finally, by some stroke of luck, managed to wrangle open, and seemed to be attempting some sort of organizational project. Huh, maybe Cas could help him.

“Good luck, lover boy.” Charlie said with a wink while Dorothy, being the fiery little ball of aggression she was, punched him in the shoulder. Charlie and her then turned down the hall toward the cafeteria, Charlie, unsurprisingly, throwing up the Vulcan salute.

Dean took a deep breath before powering forward, approaching the boy from the side and leaning up against the locker next to him with a false self-assured smile. “Hey, Cas.”

“Oh,” Cas said, sounding surprised. He looked up and met Dean's eyes before he visibly relaxed, smiling at the other boy. He cradled the books he had taken out of his locker in his right arm and rose to his feet. “Hello, Dean.”

“So, uh,” Dean looked down at his feet, shifting a bit from one foot to the other. This was a regular gesture of his now, he guessed. “My friends were wondering, um, maybe, if you're not sitting with anyone already you'd like to sit with us at lunch.”

Cas looked a bit stunned at first, but soon his lips turned up in a half-smirk as something over Dean's shoulder caught his eye. Dean wanted to turn around and see what it was, but he didn't really want to look away from Cas either. “So your friends wanted you to ask me if I wanted to sit with you?”

Dean felt his face beginning to heat up, despite how hard he tried to fight it. Was this just who he was now? The blushing lovesick schoolboy? “And me, ya know. I'd kind of like for you to sit with us.”

A moment passed and both were quiet. Dean kept his eyes trained on his shoes, refusing to look up, afraid of what he might see in the other boy's eyes. What if Cas was just now realizing how much of a dork he was, and had decided that he didn't want anything to do with him? What if he saw through to Dean's little crush on him and he thought it was pathetic, or worse, disgusting? God, he was so stupid, putting everything in jeopardy like that.

“Dean,” Cas said, breaking through his haze with his worried voice. “Are you okay?”

When he glanced up, he was met with a pair of concerned blue eyes. Cas smiled reassuringly at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Dean, I'd love to sit with you all. But are you okay?”

“Oh, um, I'm fine,” Dean said with a sheepish grin.

Cas studied him silently. “Dean, I would very much like to be your friend, if you would allow me to be. Please don't doubt that.”

“Cas,” Dean said in a firm voice, his current feelings pushed back into their nice little compartment in the back of his head. “I'm fine. I swear.”

Cas still looked a bit hesitant in believing him, but he seemed to, eventually, give into the fact that Dean did not want to talk about it and he would have to respect that. Cas forced a small smile. “So, who are these friends we'll be sitting with?”

Dean simply smiled, leading the other boy to the cafeteria and hoping that either his friends would lay off- which was highly unlikely-, or that Cas had thick skin. To deal with the two of them, especially Dorothy, who literally had no filter at all, a person needed to be able to hold their own. Dean just hoped that Cas was that kind of person.

 

•○•○•

 

“So,” Dorothy began, a smug smile spreading across her lips as she spoke, though it was directed at Dean. "You're the _famous_ Castiel Novak that Dean hasn't shut up about.”

Benny, the bastard, actually chuckled at that, but when his eyes met Dean's across the table, he quickly wiped the smirk off of his face, raising his hands in mock surrender, although his amusement was still evident in his eyes. Jo and Charlie, however, seemed to have no qualms about cracking up at that. The only one who stayed silent throughout all of this was Garth, who simply gave him a sympathetic smile. So basically all but one of his friends were a bunch of traitors. Great.

“Really?” Cas asked, visibly trying to fight back a smirk at the boy next to him as he placed a hand on his own chest dramatically. “Dean, I'm touched.”

Dean's face was burning, but he wasn't sure whether it was from anger at Dorothy or embarrassment because of what Cas had to hear from her. Maybe a mixture of both. “Blow me, Baum.”

“Dean, you do know the definition of lesbian, correct?” Dorothy asked, the comment only seeming to have served to amuse her.

“Hush, both of you.” Jo said, speaking over the both of them and shooting their table guest an apologetic look. “Castiel here probably thinks we're crazy.”

Dean gave Dorothy a pointed look, raising his eyebrows as if to say, ' _You heard the lady, now shut up_ ', but it was merely met with an eye roll and some indignant huffing on her end. Better than nothing, he supposed, but still not exactly what he'd been aiming for.

Cas shrugged, flashing them an easy smile. “Nah. Actually, I'm finding all of this quite funny. Are you two always like this?” He asked, gesturing between Dean and Dorothy.

“Pretty much.” Dorothy replied, her attention on the plate of fries she was eating. “Captain Ameridork over here tends to bring out my more... aggressive side.”

“What? You mean that isn't your factory setting?” Dean asked, shooting her a self-satisfied smirk.

“Quiet, both of you.” Charlie said, her face still full of humor but also of embarrassment. “I swear, you both are like ten year-olds.”

Here they were with a guest at their lunch table, something that rarely ever happened, except for when Bela Talbot used to sit with them when she was new in Sophomore year before finding her _place_ in the school with the more popular bunch, and they were sitting here bickering in front of him. A real great impression they were leaving on him, she was sure.

“So, Castiel,” Charlie turned to Cas, ready to attempt to rectify the damage her friends had caused, but she found that his eyes had seemed to wander to the boy next to him, his expression soft and content and a barely-there smile gracing his handsome face. Dean didn't seem to notice, however, his attention wrapped up in the burger in his hand. He had ketchup on his face and everything, yet Cas looked at him like he was something of wonder. Charlie smiled a bit, going back to her lunch instead, not wanting to break up whatever progress that was being made.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. all aboard the train to crazytown.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas let out a breath, thankful that this had only been minor. Had it been any worse, he didn't know what he would have done. Turning on the faucet, he cupped his hands and filled them with a bit of water, then leaned forward, slashing his face with it. The cool water felt good on his overheated skin, which was still hot from his fight to breathe. He released his grip on the sink, and when he finally looked up, he was met with a sight that caused his blood to run cold in his veins. Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late, but I've just had so much schoolwork that it's kind of ridiculous and I needed to give it my full attention, even though it meant holding off writing my fics. But, the good news is that, apparently, my work over the past few years has paid off and I was accepted into a college. :D I'm so excited. But anyway, please accept my apology and enjoy this chapter, which I managed to make almost twice as long as a way of making up for my absence.  
> P.S. Can anyone find my little Christmas movie reference in there? I'll give you a hint, every single one of you has, mostly likely, seen this movie if not once, a million times. It's literally one of the most popular Christmas movies ever.  
> Also, someone who played a fan favorite in Supernatural was once married to the protagonist of the movie it's from.  
> Warning: use of a word that I really, really don't like, not because of the word itself, but because of what it's meant to imply. You'll know it when you read it.

_"The dead win when you quit singing and let them take you on down the road with them."_

**\- Joe Hill, Heart Shaped Box**

•○•○•

_When Cas stepped into the bathroom, the first thing he saw, unfortunately, was his friend’s face in the mirror. Max's face was bloodied and bruised, his left eye swollen shut and his lip split. The look on his face, though, when he caught sight of Cas, was one of shame, and he quickly turned his attention back to the mirror to clean himself up._

_Cas watched, wincing, as his friend blotted his lip with a wet paper towel. He'd refused a trip to the nurse, knowing that she would only want to take this to the principal to be sorted out. That was the absolute last thing he needed right now, to announce to the whole school that he was a tattle-tale. Yeah, that should make things loads better._

_A moment passed, both of them awkwardly silent before Cas finally broke it. “You should let me say something to them.”_

_Max scoffed, tossing the used paper towel into the trash bin and turning to face the other boy. “They already think I'm a pussy, man. I'd really like to not confirm it by having my friends fight my battles for me.”_

_“Max, this is fucking serious.” Cas hissed, fed up with his friend brushing him off all the time. He always acted like everything was fine, like he didn't need anyone to help him. Yet, Cas was always the one to find him, and more often than not, he was sporting some battle wounds._

_“You think I don't know that?” Max practically shouted. Noticing how loud he actually had been, he lowered his volume and continued, “But you're not going to get yourself mixed up in this.”_

_“The hell I won't.” Cas replied, raising an eyebrow indignantly at his friend._

_“Cas-” Max tried, but he was quickly cut off by Cas, who by this point was becoming rather frustrated._

_“No,” Cas said, taking a step forward and staring straight at his friend, letting him know that he meant business. “You're my friend, and people protect their friends. That's how this shit works, Max.”_

_“I'm handling it.” Max insisted._

_“Oh yeah,” Cas said, sarcasm practically dripping from his words. “I can definitely see that from the black eye you're sporting right now.”_

_“Cas, just leave it alone, please.” Max pleaded, trying to reason with his friend. “I'm going to fix this.”_

_“How? How are you going to fix this?” Cas demanded. Max had been dealing with this for years now, and no matter how many times he was beaten, or how many times Cas offered to do something about it, he would turn him down each time. Yet nothing ever seemed to change, no matter how many times Max promised it would._

_“Just... I'm figuring it out, okay?” Max huffed a humorless laugh, avoiding Cas’s eyes. “Just give me some time, I mean, I did just literally have my face used as a punching bag.”_

_Cas hesitated. After a moment or so, finally realizing that he wasn't going to win this one, he nodded his head in reluctant agreement. “... Fine, but if you don't handle this soon I'm taking this into my own hands, understood?”_

_“I gotcha, Captain Control Freak,” Max joked, his smile weak and weary, but it was still better than nothing at all. “Don't worry about it.”_

_The bell suddenly rang, reminding Cas that he had precisely four minutes to arrive at Algebra before Mrs. Wesson gave him a detention. Max, suddenly sparking into action, quickly gathered up his gear and made for the door, but he paused when his friend began to speak._

_“Just,” Cas sighed, running a hand through his already perpetually messy hair. He looked up and stared at Max, who was still facing the door. “Don't do anything stupid, please"_

_Max glanced over his shoulder and widened his smile a bit, though it was still clearly somewhat false. His eyes, which had dulled to a dark blue over the years, looked incredibly tired and reflected honestly on his entire face._

_“Scouts honor, Cap.” Max said, his voice joking. He raised a hand and mock-saluted his friend before pushing the bathroom door open and exiting, leaving Castiel to stand there worrying about his friend - worrying he was going to do something stupid to get himself hurt._

_He never took into consideration the alternative situation. Later, he would wish he had._

**  
  
**

•○•○•

**  
  
**

“Mr. Novak!” A voice, booming and harsh, called, forcing him from his daydream. Cas – who was breathing harshly now, his heart beating rapidly in his chest – looked up and met the cruel, cold eyes of his AP Chem teacher, Mr. Adler. The man, who was about Castiel's standing height, loomed over him with a small, forced smile on his thin lips. “Glad to see you've re-joined the waking world, Mr. Novak.”

“Yes, sir,” Cas forced out, though his mind was occupied. “I apologize, I- I didn't get very much sleep last night and must have dozed off.”

Mr. Adler's smile became, if possible, even more fake, as he seemed to fight the urge to say something less than kind to his student. “You should work on that.”

Cas forced in a deep breath, just wanting the man to go the hell away, to leave him alone so he could get himself back under control. Why, why, why did this have to be happening right now, of all times? He had managed to go two weeks without an incident and now, in class and in front of everyone, is when another is to occur? It kind of figured, really.

Adler narrowed his eyes, looking at the boy before him curiously. He looked like he wanted to ask, to take advantage of the situation and probably cause him some kind of embarrassment, but before he could even utter a single word, Cas did.

“Bathroom, please?” he asked, forcing himself to appear calm, although his hands were beginning to shake where they clutched the edge of the desk. He felt eyes on him from the back of his head and, without even having to look, knew exactly who it was. But even with the attention currently being drawn to him, he knew that he had to get out or it would only get worse.

“Of course,” said Adler, slowly, as though he were still trying to figure something out. “Fill out your planner and go.”

But Cas, not really feeling up to filling out the time and his destination, simply stood up, grabbed his bag and his books, and rushed for the door. Adler didn't say a word, thankfully, but it didn't really help that he was entering a hallway with only moments between then and the time the bell would ring. He hurried a few doors down, thankful that he had at least memorized where one of the bathrooms was. He pushed open the door, shut it quickly behind him and leaned back against the door, sighing in relief.

His breathing was still choppy, every breath a struggle to release from his mouth, his throat feeling as if it were closing up while his lungs worked overtime to try to keep him going. He let his books and bag drop to the floor before him, thankfully not making too much of a mess, and slid down to the floor. He brought his knees up to rest his forehead on, wrapped his arms around his legs, and tried to will himself to breathe, just like Naomi had told him to do. He began counting down in his head from ten, knowing it may seem silly, but it usually worked for him.

_Ten._

_Nine._

_Eight._

By the time Cas reached five he began to feel his heart rate settling down, no longer feeling like the organ was going to beat straight out of his chest and feeling a lot less shaky. He sat there for a moment, not wanting to rush himself so soon after an attack. When he finally stood about a minute later, his knees were a bit wobbly; otherwise he felt okay enough to move. He crossed the room, slowly, toward the mirrors on the other side, and grabbed the edge of the counter to ensure his balance.

Cas let out a breath, thankful that this had only been minor. Had it been any worse, he didn't know what he would have done. Turning on the faucet, he cupped his hands and filled them with a bit of water, leaned forward, and splashed his face with it. The cool water felt good on his overheated skin, which was still hot from his fight to breathe. He released his grip on the sink, and when he finally looked up, he was met with a sight that caused his blood to run cold in his veins.

Max.

He turned quickly - not trusting his eyes quite yet - only to find the space behind him completely void of any person. Absolutely no one was around, yet he'd just seen his best friend in the bathroom mirror. Maybe he was finally losing it.

“Max?” he asked, his voice shaky and hesitant. “Max, buddy, are you there?”

Cas' heart practically stopped in his chest when he heard the handle turn and the bathroom door push open. The last thing he needed was someone walking in on his psychological breakdown and then going around telling people. But thankfully, he was only met with a pair of worried green eyes as the other boy peered around the door. When he caught sight of Cas, he visibly relaxed, and the door opened all the way, letting him step inside.

“Hey, Cas,” the other boy said, smiling softly, though still worriedly, at Castiel. He glanced down at his feet, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck before looking back at Cas. “I just want to check on you to… um… to, ya know, see if you're alright and all.”

Cas found himself smiling back, despite himself. “I'm fine, Dean.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “You looked a bit pale when you left. I thought you were gonna pass out or something.”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas replied, rolling his eyes. Yeah, aside from hallucinating, he was just fine and dandy. Cas just hoped Dean hadn't heard him or anything. “I just needed a moment. It's kind of unnerving, having some smug bastard all up in your face the second you come to, ya know?”

Dean chuckled, crossing his arms across his chest and moving forward a bit. “Yeah, I could see that. Adler isn't exactly the prettiest face to wake up to.”

“No,” Castiel said with a grin. “No he is not.”

Just as Dean seemed to be about to say something, the bell rang, cutting him off. Castiel cursed under his breath, walking over and kneeling down to pick up the books and his bag that he'd dropped on the ground by the door. He looked back at Dean, who seemed to be considering something.

“Um, Dean?” Cas asked, and Dean looked over to meet his eyes with a new pinkness in his cheeks. It was abso-fucking-lutely adorable. “Don't you have a class now?”

Dean's blush only grew darker at this and he looked down, shifting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder with a nod. “Yeah, I should probably get going right about now, I've got History with Ms. Barnes. She'll be totally pissed if I'm late.”

The two boys left the bathroom, one after another, and just as Cas turned to head of to English, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned back to face the other boy, who was looking at him with a surprisingly serious look on his face.

“Dean?” Cas asked, a little concerned now, seeing that look on his face.

“Just,” Dean hesitated, but seemed to have forced a decision out of himself when he continued with, “Take care of yourself, okay? Just- be careful.”

Cas, confused as to what Dean's point was, simply nodded. Had he... did Dean know something? Had he heard Cas talking to himself, and was now suggesting he get himself some help to cure his crazy? Cas really hoped not, but, more often than not, he got exactly what he didn't want, so he didn't bother wanting too hard.

“I will,” he said, trying to just go with it.

This seemed to satisfy Dean, who simply nodded back, patted the dark haired boy on the arm, and took off speed walking down the hallway away from Cas, who was left both confused and worried, standing and staring after him.

**  
  
**

•○•○•

**  
  
**

“Gabe?” Castiel called, his voice echoing through the halls of the large home. “Gabe, I'm home!”

“Kitchen!” A voice, his older brother's, called back from deeper in the house.

When he entered the kitchen, he was met with the sight of his brother, a 22 year old man, licking a spoon covered in what must have been brownie batter, if the box on the counter was any indication. On the floor, Gabriel's corgi-husky mix puppy, Little Nero, was staring up at the spoon like it was the Holy Grail or something. Like owner, like puppy, he guessed. Gabriel grinned, waving at his younger sibling. He held out the batter coated spoon, as if offering it. “Want some? I swear, I don't have mono.”

Cas shook his head, and Gabriel, the sugar loving weirdo he was, went right back to licking the spoon clean. Cas sat at the kitchen island, watching his brother with a look of disgust. How, he wondered, were they even related? Sometimes he wondered if Gabriel was adopted, but when he had asked his father about it at the age of eleven, he had been assured that he was, in fact, his blood brother.

“So,” Castiel asked when his brother had finally finished his treat. He leaned his elbows on the table, leaning forward. “Where is everyone?”

“Dad is upstairs writing, as usual, Anna's probably zonked out upstairs, her cold's still pretty bad, Michael is still at work,” Gabriel replied, ticking the members of his family off on his fingers, “and Hester is most likely out drinking the blood of orphans or spitting on puppies.” At that, he looked down at Little Nero, a look of empathy on his face, "Oh, sorry, bud."

Hester was their stepmother, and yes, she was exactly like every fairytale stepmother ever. She was mean, nasty, and most of all, a complete and total psycho. She was a very devout Catholic, to the point where she seriously ought to just go out and get it tattooed on her forehead, and had been force feeding her bullshit to her stepchildren ever since day one. Honestly, Cas wondered where his father, Chuck, had even found this woman. Crazies R Us? Probably.

His real mother, a lovely woman named Rachel, had died when he was only nine, and about two years later his father had brought Hester home to dinner, where she had acted so sugary sweet that not one of them trusted a word she said. It didn't seem to matter much though, because about a year after that dinner, his father proposed, and they'd been stuck with the evil bitch ever since. Gabriel had taken to at least making jokes about the matter, while Michael buried himself in his work, and Anna and Castiel had simply just stopped coming home after school, hiding out at friend's places, or in Castiel's case, at the lake.

Anyway, the point was that Hester was a bitch and everyone - except Chuck, apparently - hated her guts and wished her dead, or at the very least, far away from them. Even Michael, Mr. Suck-Up, couldn't stand her. And yes, she probably was off drinking orphan blood or spitting on puppies.

“Um, well, have you heard anything new?” Cas asked, looking at his brother hopefully, knowing that his brother would understand what he'd meant without him having to spell it out. Especially when he'd been asking this every day for nearly three weeks now.

Gabriel's smile dropped at that, and he shook his head with a sigh. He went around the island, followed loyally by his puppy, who began hopping up and down against Cas' leg, trying to jump up. He took a seat next to his baby brother, wrapping an arm loosely around his shoulders. “I talked to Mrs. Miller today, and she says there hasn't been any change since yesterday.”

“But yesterday they said that he'd moved his finger,” Cas argued, wanting nothing more than to rush down to that hospital and shake a doctor until they tell him the news he wanted, and have it be true. Then, it really wasn't the doctors fault. They couldn't have helped what had happened. “Isn't that a good sign?”

“The doctors said it doesn't necessarily mean anything. Apparently that's common for coma patients.” Gabriel said, looking down at him sympathetically. “Dr. Sexy lied to us, buddy.”

Castiel snorted, but shook his brothers arm from around him, hopping to the ground and facing the window that overlooked their backyard, where the ground was covered with colorful leaves that someone still had to rake before Hester flipped her shit.

“Apparently they said he could be in something called a persistent vegetative state.” Gabriel added from behind, but Cas didn't turn around. “They said it has the potential to last for months, or... longer.”

Cas nodded, showing that he understood, thank you, and that Gabriel could please stop talking. His mind was abuzz with all kinds of thoughts, mostly ones of guilt, and they only seemed to get louder by the second.

_This is all your fault._

_You should have stopped him._

_He's like this because of you._

Castiel turned to face his brother, forcing a smile to not worry his brother. “I think I'm gonna go take a walk.”

Gabriel's eyebrows furrowed together, his expression one of concern. “You want me to come with you?”

Castiel shook his head, grabbing his bag from the back of his chair and heading for the front door, where he grabbed his coat from the hanger, which contained his tin. He'd definitely need it. He heard a throat clear from behind him, and turned to see Gabriel standing with Nero in his arms, wriggling about and trying to get down.

“Think you could take him with you?” He asked, lifting the puppy slightly to indicate who he was talking about. “I've gotta study for my Marketing class and I don't know that I'm going to have time to walk the little guy tonight.”

Cas nodded, moving forward and taking the pup from his brothers held out arms, along with his leash. He squirmed, fighting to get down so he could run around and chase his own tail or whatever it was Little Nero's liked to do with their time. He hooked his leash to his collar and placed him on the ground, where he proceeded to chew on the leash, trying to free himself. His brother, who still looked a bit worried, waved them off from the doorstep, and then they were off.

 

•○•○•

**  
  
**

The woods were just as wild as ever, the only part of town left untouched by the destructive hands of man, green and beautiful and peaceful as Castiel remembered. He sat, leaned back against the trunk of an old oak tree, his hands occupied with sealing a rolled object. He looked around, somehow, despite knowing that no one ever went there in all the years he'd used this place as a hideout, still nervous about being caught.

Once he was sure that no one was going to barge in like a SWAT team and break up his party, he pulled a black lighter from his coat pocket, lighting up the end of the joint, tucking it back away, and taking a drag. He let out the smoke slowly, like a sigh of relief, and let his head rest back against the trunk.

He and Max used to come out here all the time, sometimes with a few others, but mostly on their own. This had been their spot, their place to go when they needed an escape for a little while, with or without the assistance of drugs or alcohol. Max would never be able to come back here again though, so he figured this was just his place now.

No, instead of being a stupid teenager and doing stupid shit like hanging out by the lake, drinking and smoking the evening away, he was laid up in a hospital bed with only a very small chance of ever waking up. And it was all his fault.

Castiel brought the joint again to his lips, this time taking an even deeper drag. He held it for a moment and released it, only to find that it didn't really do anything to make the tight, sick feeling in his stomach go away. Then, seeing your practically dead best friend behind you in a mirror is a hard experience to shake, so what was he expecting?

Little Nero, who was still hooked up to his leash, struggled to pull Cas in the direction of his choosing, which happened to be the very same direction as a small brown finch was hopping, which also happened to be down the ledge, scattered with large rocks, ones that took up practically the entire ledge, that made it much easier to navigate down to the lake. He glanced back at Cas, his tongue hanging out and his little tail wagging with excitement, as if begging the human, “please oh please let me chase the bird!”

“Goddammit,” he muttered, using the trunk behind him to help push himself up. He picked the puppy up, moved toward the rocks - boulders really - and sat down on the edge, placing the joint between his lips to free up his hands and pushing off and dropping to his feet below, just before the lake. He placed Little Nero back on the ground, and he trotted off in the direction the bird had went in, hunting down his prey. Once he'd taken the joint from his mouth, he sat again, this time on a large rock that stuck out into the lake, turned to face the water.

“It was just a hallucination,” Cas said aloud, trying to convince himself, although even the mere thought of what he'd seen made shivers run up his spine. “Remember? No one was there when you turned around. No one. So it couldn't have been real.”

Even though, Castiel logically knew it couldn't have been real, he still felt as if he'd seen a ghost. A boy, his best friend since fifth grade who was supposed to be near death in a hospital bed, had been standing just behind him, and he was absolutely freaked. It had seemed real, too real to fully convince himself.

Now, Cas didn't believe in ghosts. He believed in what he could see with his own eyes, and what had been proven to exist, nothing more, and no one had officially checked off ghosts as real things. Sure, there were plenty of people going around claiming to be supernatural investigators and all that junk, like that webshow Max had once showed him, _Ghostfacers_. If those two bumbling idiots, Ed and Harry, were the face of proving the supernatural to exist, then Cas didn't think he'd ever believe in it.

Only, as Cas sat on the lakeside, pondering the bathroom incident, he could feel everything he thought he'd known beginning to crumble before him. And it scared the hell out of him.

 ****  
  


 


	5. he might not know it, but he's mine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, Winchester,” Meg said, taking a seat right next to Dean during his Computer Science elective, leaning her head against her palm as she studied his screen, on which was, since he'd finished his work early, opened to a game of Pandemic. “That new kid you've been hanging around with... Clarence?”
> 
> “Castiel.” He corrected, although he pointedly avoided using his nickname for the blue eyed boy. The thought of her calling him Cas made a curl of what felt to him like jealousy form in his gut, only serving to ignite his currently fragile nerves.
> 
> “Yeah, that one.” she gave a small gesture, urging him to go on. “What can you tell me about him?” A slow smile spread across her lips, one that made dread pool in his gut. “Is he...?”
> 
> Dean wasn’t exactly sure what possessed him at that very moment, but suddenly he couldn’t control his own mouth, from which came a harsh response of, “He's taken, Meg.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!! :D I hope 2015 treats you all well, especially if 2014 wasn't all that kind.   
> I also want to thank my awesome beta reader MrsKevier for taking on the task of correcting my countless grammatical mistakes, I don't have any idea what I would do without her (probably look like a total idiot).  
> Anyway, I have to be quick about posting this, as I'm going out to dinner with my grandparents and their super homophobic friends (fun when you're a lesbian, really). Wish me luck.

_“Welcome to the wonderful world of jealousy, he thought. For the price of admission, you get a splitting headache, a nearly irresistible urge to commit murder, and an inferiority complex. Yippee.”_

_**\- J.R. Ward, Dark Lover** _

•○•○•

By week two, Castiel felt almost comfortable in his new environment. It was still rather strange, of course, not having to wear uniforms or take religion classes, but a good kind of strange, the kind that comes with relief.

Every day, he would spend lunch with Dean and his friends, though he was slowly coming to refer to them as his own friends as well. Most of the lunch period would be spent either watching Dean bicker with Dorothy, which was hilarious, or watching him debate pop culture with Charlie who, in her fandom tees, was quite possibly an expert on the subject.

Watching Dean was something he found himself doing often, too often for him to even attempt to rationalize or excuse it. He tried though, right up until Anna, who had joined them for lunch once she was over her zombie infection, had pointed it out to him, plain as day. So yeah, Cas had a tiny crush on Dean. Not that it really mattered, anyway, as Dean wasn't even interested.

Anyway, his hopeless pining aside, Lawrence High had been relatively kind to him. He liked his teachers, especially Ms. Barnes, his History teacher. She was kind, though rather sarcastic and even a bit crude, but he liked her. She had made sure to make him feel welcome in her class, speaking to him as if he were just an ordinary person, not just some nameless nobody student in one of her classes, and it was something he very much appreciated. At St. Michael's, most teachers never seemed to bother, nor did they seem to particularly care to know their students much better. A few raised hands and good answers being more than enough for them.

Castiel was snapped out of his thoughts by a sudden jolt of the table before him, and when he looked up, he was met with the sheepish smile of a younger boy, though he stood, gangly, at 5”11 at the very least.

“Hi,” he said, his voice quiet and shy-sounding, and his cheeks a faint pink, though his hazel eyes glimmered with a welcoming sort of kindness. He reached out a hand for Cas to, presumably, shake. “I'm Sam Winchester.”

Cas froze at that, blinking and examining the boy before him. At first glance, he wouldn't have guessed there was any relation between the two boys, but, now knowing, he could suddenly spot a few small similarities here and there. He knew then without a doubt that this boy, who was currently towering over Castiel by nearly half a foot, was the younger brother Dean had spent whole Physics lessons bragging about.

Sam's smile dimmed a bit the longer Cas continued to simply stare. He shifted from one foot to the next, appearing suddenly quite nervous, though in his eyes Cas could discern a bit of hope. “I'm so sorry to bother you, especially since this isn't even the first day. I mean, I just transferred into this study hall, so it's my first day and-” Sam cut himself off, shaking his head and making his shaggy brown hair flop onto his forehead, “I was just wondering... would you mind- um, can I sit with you? It's totally fine if you'd rather sit alone, but I never get to study at home because of my older brother and his loud music and-”

“No, no of course,” Castiel pushes the chair across from him out with his foot, then gesturing toward it with his hand. “I'm just, ya know, a bit surprised.” Cas forced a smile, though he could feel how fake it was. It kind of felt like the skin of his face had turned to plastic. “It's just, well, not many people want to sit with the freaky new kid.”

Sam's eyebrows furrowed together, his hazel eyes narrowing in confusion. “You were that Miller kid's friend, right?”

“Yup,” Cas replied, popping the 'p' dramatically, just sitting back and waiting for the backlash. Hell, who knows, maybe this would even turn Dean against him, presuming he didn't already know all about him and Max.

“Well, that's not really your fault, is it?” Sam said, thoroughly surprising Castiel. This was the first time a person didn't end up at least looking at him strange, let alone actually excusing him. “You didn't pull the trigger.”

Castiel blinked, snapping himself out of it and flashed the younger boy a weak smile. “You know, I think you might be the first person who's actually said that.”

Sam shrugged, like it really wasn't all that big of a deal, which, apparently, it wasn't to him. Cas couldn't help but like the younger boy for this, for not acting like he understood the whole story without even needing to hear it from him. Sam didn't act like he had him all figured out from minute one, and he liked that.

“Anyway,” Sam began, tugging one of his textbooks from his bulging backpack and flipping it open. “Dean said you were cool, and even if he's a stupid jerk sometimes, he's a good judge of character.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas said softly, wondering exactly what else Dean had told Sam about him. He hadn't even considered the fact that his name might have come up in a conversation between them, but, apparently, it had.

“No problem,” Sam replied, not looking up from the book in front of him, but still conveying perfectly his sincerity.

And with that, Cas returned to his work, thankful for his new company.

•○•○•

The sound of clicking heels in the sudden silence of the room caught his attention during class later that day. Only one person in Lawrence High could manage to silence an entire class with just her presence alone, and that was Meg Masters, virtual queen of the school, and exactly who he needed to talk to. See, the Master's were a rather large and influential family in Lawrence, and some of them, namely Ruby Master's, Meg's younger cousin, had attended St. Michael's prior to the incident, and who better to ask about what had happened then the immediate family of said person?

“So, Winchester,” Meg said, taking a seat right next to Dean during his Computer Science elective, leaning her head against her palm as she studied his screen, on which was, since he'd finished his work early, opened to a game of Pandemic. “That new kid you've been hanging around with... Clarence?”

“Castiel.” He corrected, although he pointedly avoided using his nickname for the blue eyed boy. The thought of her calling him Cas made a curl of what felt to him like jealousy form in his gut, only serving to ignite his currently fragile nerves.

“Yeah, that one.” she gave a small gesture, urging him to go on. “What can you tell me about him?” A slow smile spread across her lips, one that made dread pool in his gut. “Is he...?”

Dean wasn’t exactly sure what possessed him at that very moment, but suddenly he couldn’t control his own mouth, from which came a harsh response of, “He's taken, Meg.”

Her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion, probably wondering why he was getting so worked up over some guy he’d only known for two days- or maybe he was just projecting. "By who?"

“Some chick who lives in the next town over.” He lied, trying to quickly cover his tracks. The last thing he needed was Meg Masters, the unofficial queen of misery at Lawrence High School, finding out about his Cas-shaped dilemma. “Not too sure on the name, though. Haven’t known the kid all that long, you know.”

“Uh, huh,” Meg said, looking as if she believed him about as much as if he had tried to tell her that Santa Claus was real. “So you don't even know the girl's name, huh?”

“Nope,” he said, trying to look innocent, though it was very difficult with someone like Meg Masters staring you straight in the face. “Not a clue.”

“Huh,” she said, huffing a laugh and shaking her head. “You know, Dean, it's kind of adorable, really. Your little crush on Clarence, that is.”

“Castiel. And what the hell are you yammering on about?” Dean asked, though he knew exactly what she was talking about, and based on the smirk on Meg's lips, she knew he did as well.

“You, Dean. You like him, and by the looks of it, you like him a lot.” Meg said, her smirk wide and full of satisfaction as she stands up, nudging Dean to make him face her. When he did, he fully regretted it. Then, most people regretted any conversation they had with Meg. “Enough to make up some fake girlfriend to keep me away from him. Odd, considering you've only known him for what, a week or so?”

Meg pulled back suddenly, standing up straight and sweeping her hair back from where it had all fallen over her shoulders from leaning. “But hey, that sounds like a 'you' problem, so I'll just leave you to that.”

She flashed him a smile that was so sweet and fake it nearly rotted his teeth from looking at it before strutting off, her high-heeled boots clicking softly on the linoleum floor of the computer lab. And, right as he was about to return to his work, he realized something- he'd been so focused on defending Cas against Meg he'd completely forgotten to ask about St. Michael's.

•○•○•

“You know,” Sam said, making sure to keep the look on his face innocent. “I met Cas today.”

Dean glanced over at his little brother, trying to gauge his reaction. “And?”

Sam nodded, a smile forming on his face. “I like him. He's... different. But good different, of course. He's also really smart.”

Dean tried to control his blushing, not wanting to give his younger brother one more thing to mock him for. He refocused on the road in front of him, not wanting Sam to see the smile that was quickly growing on his face at the mere thought of the other boy. “Yeah, he's pretty great.”

Sam laughed, apparently having taken notice anyway, “Oh man, you're so far gone.”

His blush only got darker at that, making his face a bright red and his freckles stand out in a way he absolutely hated. “Shut up, bitch.”

“Whatever, jerk.” Sam replied, a smug smile on his face.

•○•○•

It was quiet in the white room, the only noise breaking the silence being the clicking of machines. Castiel had come to hate silence in the past few months, ever since the shooting, as even that day seemed to be nothing but silence followed by destruction. Every silence, it seemed to him, was just the calm before the storm, and so he thought if he avoided that silence altogether, he would be okay. So, while most people would associate the clicking of the hospital machines with tragedy, he found them to be rather comforting.

Before him, pale against the white sheets of the hospital bed, however, lay the very reason he was there. Months of being unconscious didn't seem to have changed very much about the boy, as the nurses had made sure to bathe him and keep him shaven. Odd that they would do that, especially when it was taken into consideration that he was also handcuffed to the bed.

A knock sounded at the door just then, despite it being wide open, and Nurse Moseley, or Missouri, as she had asked him to call her, a kind woman with a short stature and a wide frame, stepped into the room. She smiled softly at Castiel, whom she had gotten rather close to over the past few months, during which he would visit the hospital nearly every day.

“Hello, sugar,” she greeted him, moving over to Max's bedside, presumably to check his vitals. “How was your day?”

“It was... interesting, to say the least.” Cas replied, shifting to make himself more comfortable in the wooden chair he was sitting in.

“Might that have something to do with that boy you've told me about, Dean?” Missouri said, sending him a small but slightly smug smile. To her, this whole crush seemed like a wonderful thing, as she was utterly convinced that Dean returned his feelings, refusing to listen to any of Castiel's arguments about why that couldn't be true.

Castiel sighed, “No, Missouri. I already told you, Dean doesn't-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Missouri tutted, raising her hand to silence him. “Boy, do you remember what I told you already?”

“How you just know things, you mean?” Cas asked, his voice making very clear his disbelief. He shook his head. “He's straight, so how is it that he could like me? Last I checked, I don't have boobs and/or a vagina.”

Missouri laughed at that, but came forward and took a seat in the spare chair next to him, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. “Castiel, sweetie, that boy is about as straight as I am tall.”

Cas met her eyes skeptically. “And you just know that?”

She nodded, a soft smile appearing on her face. “I just know.”

“But,” Cas hesitated, looking over at the bed where his friend lay unconscious. “after what happened-”

“That wasn't your fault,” Missouri scolded him gently. “You didn't make him do what he did. He made his own choices and carried them out on his own. You couldn't have known.”

Despite how much he wanted to believe that, if even only to give himself some peace of mind, he honestly still felt the guilt deep in his bones. He should have done something, should have at least paid more attention to his friend, then maybe none of this would have ever happened.

“Okay,” he told her, despite his own opinion of the matter. He knew arguing with her wouldn't do anyone any good anyway.

Based on the look in the older woman's eyes, she knew perfectly well where he still stood on the matter, but her own stance was a force to be reckoned with. She sighed as she stood up and, just as she opened her mouth to say something more, her pager went off, telling her that she was needed elsewhere. She patted Cas gently on the shoulder, meaning to comfort him, and met his eyes once again. “Just go easy on yourself.”

 _Easier said than done._ He thought, but he forced a smile for her anyway, though that smile quickly faded away once Missouri left to continue her rounds.

Castiel spent the rest of his visit the same as he had all the others before, lost in his thoughts and practically drowning in his guilt; all the while, a boy sat by his side, unable to be seen, and trying and failing to be heard.

 


	6. freaks & geeks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Meg, what do you want?” Dorothy said, finally speaking the words every one of them had wanted to say for the past few minutes. “And don't give me some b.s. excuse about how you enjoy our company or whatever, either.”  
> “Did you ever consider that maybe I just wanted to make our little Castiel here feel welcome?” Meg asked, though the glare she gave Dorothy practically screamed how hard she was trying to play nice, despite how hard she seemed to be working to get to Cas.  
> “And did you ever think that maybe he wasn't interested?” Dorothy shot back. Cas' eyes widened even further, and he glanced back and forth between the two girls, one next to and the other across from him.  
> Meg clenched her jaw at that. “How about you let him-”  
> “I'm gay.” Cas said, effectively shutting everyone right the fuck up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, actually updating on time for once in my life. This chapter was actually written before I posted the last one, because I'm trying to make sure I always have a chapter to post. That makes sense, right? Basically I mean to say that I'm attempting to ensure that I always update on time by making sure that I have two chapters before posting one of them. I also think I'm going to go with Monday's for updates from here on out, how does that sound?  
> Anyway, enjoy. :)  
> Oh, and also keep an eye out for a new drabble. I'm in the process of writing two right now, and hopefully I'll be posting one or both of them really soon.

  

**Chapter Six - freaks & geeks. **

 

_"The non-jocks, the readers, the gay kids, the ones starting to stew about social injustice: for these kids, "letting your freak flag fly" is both self discovery and self defense. You cry for this bunch at the mandatory pep assemblies. Huddled together, miserably, in the upper reaches of the bleachers, wearing their oversized raincoats and their secondhand Salvation Army clothes, they stare down at the school-sanctioned celebration of the A list students. They know bullying, these kids--especially the ones who refuse to exist under the radar. They're tripped in the hallway, shoved against lockers, pelted with Skittles in the lunchroom. For the most part, their tormentors are stealth artists._

_The freaks know where there's refuge: In the library, the theater program, art class, creative writing."_

_-_ **Wally Lamb, The Hour I First Believed**

 

•○•○•

 

For Dean, lunch had always been the best part of his day- no work, no expectations beyond simply not starting any food fights or, hell, regular fights. It was like a twenty minute pause on an otherwise hectic day, giving him time to pull himself together in order to tackle the rest of the day. And ever since Cas had started eating with them, that time had become even more valuable.

That is, until Meg Masters got involved.

“Hey, losers,” Meg greeted, coming up from behind Dean and nearly making him choke on the burrito in his mouth. What's more, she had decided to take a seat directly between him and Cas, and when she meet his shocked gaze, she simply smirked. “You don't mind if I sit here today, do you, Deano?”

Another thing Meg was especially good at, aside from simply tormenting people, was putting them on the spot and giving them no other choice but to walk directly into her trap. She was kind of like a spider that way – trapping her prey in her web by cornering it and giving it nowhere else to run. Really, if she only used her powers for good, she would make an incredible lawyer.

“Of course not,” he said through gritted teeth, knowing that turning her down would only make him look like an asshole, and that's the last thing he wanted Cas to think he was. He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice when he continued with, “Glad to have you.”

With that, Meg turned her attention to the boy next to her, who was studying her with a look of confusion, tilting his head in that adorable- no, not adorable, dammit- way he always did. Dean felt his stomach churn a bit, fearing what he knew was inevitable. Meg, despite being incredibly intimidating, was fairly good at winning people over with her supposed “charm”, and he honestly doubted Cas would be any different regarding resistance to it.

“And hello, Clarence,” Meg practically purred, leaning into Cas' personal space.

Cas blinked, his blue eyes wide and bewildered, “My name is not Clarence, um...”

“Meg,” she provided, smiling wider, which only served to make her look like a cat hunting a mouse. “Meg Masters.”

Dean snorted, “What are you, James Bond?”

Meg shot him a quick, withering glare before returning her gaze to Castiel. “And I know, sweetheart. Dean here has told me _all_ about you.” she said, causing Cas' cheeks to begin to take on a slight pink hue. “You're Castiel.”

Cas' expression became, if even possible, more confused at that. “Then why did you-”

“Meg, what do you want?” Dorothy said, finally speaking the words every one of them had wanted to say for the past few minutes. “And don't give me some b.s. excuse about how you enjoy our company or whatever, either.”

“Did you ever consider that maybe I just wanted to make our little Castiel here feel welcome?” Meg asked, though the glare she gave Dorothy practically screamed how hard she was trying to play nice, despite how hard she seemed to be working to get to Cas.

“And did you ever think that maybe he wasn't interested?” Dorothy shot back. Cas' eyes widened even further, and he glanced back and forth between the two girls, one next to and the other across from him.

Meg clenched her jaw at that. “How about you let him-”

“I'm gay.” Cas said, effectively shutting everyone right the fuck up.

Everyone was completely silent for a moment, letting the words sink in. _Gay. He's gay,_ Dean thought, feeling relief settle over him. Seconds ticked by and still no one spoke, and, when he finally snapped out of his own happy thoughts, Dean noticed the look of nervous shame on Castiel's face and the tension in his body language, instantly filling him with guilt. Dean knew shame and he knew the fear that came with just coming out and saying something like that, as he'd done the same just a few months before. Sure, he'd got nothing but positive reactions and support from his friends- mostly because he'd opted not to tell his father that little tidbit-, but it didn't make it any less scary.

Charlie was the first to finally speak, smiling kindly at Castiel, “You should totally come to GSA sometime. We're always looking for new members.”

Cas seemed to relax, the tension leaving his body. He returned her smile with an appreciative one. And when his eyes traveled around the table, he was met with similar reactions, though Meg's was mixed with a bit of disappointment. “Thank you, Charlie.”

Charlie seemed to have been about to say something, but she was cut off by a sudden loud noise coming from the back corner of the lunch room, where a smaller boy lay sprawled on the ground, his shirt covered in what looked to be his lunch.

“Fucking faggot,” snarled a boy that Dean recognized as Gordon Walker.

“Aw, you gonna cry?” Azazel cooed mockingly, kneeling down to the boy's level.

His eyes, which looked a bit red, though he could have been mistaken, narrowed and he growled out angrily, “Shut up.”

Alastair's eyebrows shot up, “Look at that, little fairy's got some fighting words.”

“I said,” he said, pulling himself slowly to his feet, the food that had been covering his shirt sliding to the ground. “Shut. Up.”

“Or else what, _Alfie_? You'll kiss us?” Gordon joked, crinkling his nose in disgust. “You probably taste like dick.”

The boy, Alfie, took a step closer to Gordon, his face contorted in a kind of anger that just didn't seem fitting of such a nice-looking kid. “Either shut up or I'll-”

“You'll what, huh?” Gordon smirked, looking like he was practically high from all the excitement. This was the crap people like him got off on. “You ain't gonna do shit. You don't have the balls.”

That seemed to set something off in Alfie right then, and before Dean could even fully register what was happening, Alfie seized hold of Gordon's hand. “Oh, really now?” he asked, following up by bending Gordon's thumb back in a quick jerk that _had_ to have broken it. There was no way it hadn't.

“What do you think of that, _Zach_?” Alfie asked, smirking.

The room got very quiet all of a sudden, everyone staring, almost in shock from what they had seen. Dean wondered if they were all thinking the same as he was, though he was pretty sure it would be in the forefront of their minds- who the hell was Zach?

The sudden horror and pain coloring Gordon's features made it very clear that his hand was injured. The curious thing, however, was the sudden look of horror that spread across Alfie's face as he looked at what he'd done, his mouth open in shock and his eyes wide.

Teachers, who had been previously unable to get through the crowd of students surrounding the four boys, pushed through and took control of the situation, one grabbing Alfie, who was, oddly enough, yelling that he hadn't done anything, and all but dragging him from the room. Two other teachers took care of the rest, one taking the other two boys, and the other presumably taking Gordon to the nurse to have his hand looked at.

The room erupted into noise and Dean, still pretty shocked from what he'd seen, turned back to face his friends. When he caught sight of a pale and shaking Cas, though, his protective instincts kicked in, driving him to stand up and move over to him, placing a hand on his arm. Cas looked up at him after a moment, a haunted look in his eyes.

“You okay, buddy?” Dean asked, his concern leaking into his voice.

Cas looked back to the door that Alfie had been escorted out of, his body tense as if he was waiting for something horrible to happen. The only answer Dean managed to get out of him, though he wasn't even sure if Cas had meant for it to be said to him, or if he had just been talking out loud, was one word, well, one name, actually: “Max.”

 

•○•○•

 

Dean knew the instant that he stepped foot in Harvelle's Roadhouse, finding it packed with what he guessed was a late lunch crowd, that he was in for a verbal whooping. He was late, he knew that, but he knew that after what he'd seen in the bathroom that day, he had to look again. So he had stayed after, returning to the lunchroom and then to the bathroom with his homemade EMF detector while Sammy waited in the parking lot, fuming, as Dean hadn't exactly taken the time to tell him his little plan. Then, why drag Sam into it? He wasn't John Winchester, dragging his kids into situations they had no business being in from the time they could point and shoot. So, if you really thought about it, it was justified.

But something good did come out of all that, and that was a little discovery Dean made on the floor of the lunchroom. The substance was black, sticky, and something he'd seen what felt like hundreds of times- ectoplasm, the calling card of a vengeful spirit.

The kitchen door swung open right then, and out came an older women with short dark hair and a look of exasperation on her face, though it quickly changed to a tired version of relief when she caught sight of him and Sam.

“You're late,” Ellen Harvelle, his unofficial surrogate mother and biological aunt, said with a shake of her head as she stepped around the bar and approached the two boys, an apron in hand, which she thrust into Dean's awaiting hands. “Ya know, even Jo doesn't get a free pass on being late, Winchester.”

Dean smirked, looking over Ellen's shoulder at Jo, who was leaning against the bar with an annoyed look on her face, clearly bothered by the special treatment her mother gave Dean, despite him not actually being her child. She wasn't actually bitter about it or anything, but yeah, it could be annoying to have to put up with, especially when you were the bio daughter and you weren't the same treatment or better.

“So basically what you're telling me here is that I'm the favorite, am I right?” He sent Jo a wink to let her know he was only kidding and she simply rolled her eyes, pushing off the bar counter and heading for the kitchen door. Once she was gone, his smile faded and his face became serious yet hesitant, as Sam still stood just beside him. “Ellen, um-”

Ellen must have noticed his hesitation because suddenly her expression softened and she looked at Sam with a small smile. “Sam, honey, why don't you go work on your homework in your booth, alright? I'll have Jo bring you over some fries.”

Sam, despite looking incredibly confused, did as he was told, turning and heading for his usual corner booth. Once he was gone, Ellen said, with her voice lowered so none of the other costumers could hear. “Is this about John?”

Dean shook his head. Although he probably should let her know that he'd need to pick up a few more shifts while his dad was gone, the current issue at hand took precedence. “It's-” Dean glanced around, making sure no one was paying them any mind. Other than some average creepy staring four year old at the table to his left, no one seemed to even notice them. “It's a hunting thing.”

Ellen's eyebrows rose a bit at that, and she glanced over her shoulder at the clock that hung on the wall just behind the bar. She then looked at her crowded restaurant and sighed, gesturing to the kitchen door. “You've got ten minutes, boy.”

Dean hurried toward the door with a quick “Thank you!” called over his shoulder. Pushing the door open, he was met with the delicious smell of fried food, and the sight of Benny, who grinned at him in greeting, at the grill, making burgers.

“Hey, brother,” Benny said, flipping a patty over to show a nicely browned side. “Ellen don't got you running around like a mad man yet?”

“Oh, she will, trust me,” Dean said, huffing a laugh as he thought of how hellish that crowd was going to be. “I just need to talk to Bobby first.”

The door to the back office opened just then, and out stepped Jo, who, when she noticed Benny looking at her, turned a bit red in the cheeks. She forced her eyes away from him and instead met Dean's eyes, pointedly ignoring his smug smile.

“What are you doing back here, huh?” Jo asked, clearing her throat and trying to sound unaffected by their now chuckling audience. “Mom's probably got about a million tables that need waiting.”

“I need to talk to Bobby first,” he replied, wondering why it was that he seemed to have to go through a line of people to get this done with. Curse of having a close night family, he guessed. “Now, if you'll excuse me.”

Jo moved out of his way, huffing a bit about annoying cousins and special treatment, heading out the door without even a glance back at either boy. Dean met Benny's eyes, which were sparkling with humor. “And you want to invite yourself into that?”

“What can I say, brother? Apparently, I'm a glutton for punishment.” Benny joked, his attention returning to the grill before him, from which he removed a perfectly cooked burger that made Dean's mouth water. But he ignored it, saying goodbye to his friend and heading into the back office.

The back office of Harvelle's Roadhouse wasn't so much an office as it was a break room, as proven by the fact that Ash was lounging on the beaten up old plaid couch to his right, typing away on his rebuilt laptop, presumably helping Bobby with the books, if the stressed look on his uncle's face was any indication at all. Even his trucker hat, which almost never left his head, was sat on the corner of the scratched oak desk he sat at, and he instead sat scratching at his head.

“Um, Bobby?” he said, trying to catch his attention without startling him. Dean knew from personal experience that catching Bobby off-guard was never a good idea, not unless you really had the urge to piss the older man off.

“Can't you see I'm busy here, boy?” Bobby said without even looking up.

“It's kind of important,” Dean said, which seemed to catch the older man's attention, as he immediately looked up, studying the boy before him as if he was looking for something that might be physically wrong. “I'm fine, Bobby. It's not about me.”

“Is it Sam?” Bobby asked, his eyebrows coming together in concern. “What'd the idjit do now?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Dean assured him. Bobby's eyes narrowed in confusion at that, and he decided he might as well just go ahead and explain. “I just- I think there might be something in the school.”

Bobby looked over at Ash, who had finally looked up from whatever it was he was doing on his laptop, before looking back at Dean. “And by somethin' you mean...”

“I found ectoplasm,” he told them, pulling out a tissue from his pocket and showing the black liquid covering part of the fabric. “Not a lot, but enough to tell what it was.”

“You usually just walk around with ectoplasm-y tissues in your pocket, bro?” Ash asked, a small smirk on his lips that quickly vanished when Bobby turned to glare at him.

Bobby's gaze returned to him, and he studied the tissue in Dean's hand for a moment before sighing. “Well then, I guess we've got us a vengeful spirit on our hands.” He opened a desk drawer to his right and from it pulled an average sized bottle of amber liquid, thankfully at least made of glass. He opened it, pouring some into a coffee mug with a picture of a snowman on it, and taking a deep drink. “Just wonderful,” he said on a sigh, perfectly reflecting Dean's own thoughts.

They had work to do.

 

 

 

 


	7. falling? more like crashing and hoping you don't hit the ground head-on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stucky?” Castiel asked, his eyebrows furrowed together, which Dean found adorable as hell. “What the hell is a Stucky?”  
> “Ya know, Stucky-” Dean said, like it was just going to suddenly click in the other boys mind. It didn't, of course. “It's Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes' ship name.”  
> “Ship?” Cas tilted his head, as if thinking it through in his big, smart brain. “I thought Steve Rogers was Captain America, not a sailing vessel. Am I mistaken?”  
> “Oh my god, you really are a blank slate, aren't you?” Dean said, shaking his head, a big smile on his lips at the thought of how much he had to teach him. “Charlie and I need to educate you, like yesterday. But hell, at least you knew who Steve Rogers was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, and right on schedule too. I'm usually terrible at the whole posting on a certain day thing, but I guess always being one chapter ahead makes it easier. Anyway, I also managed to hit 3k on this one, so I guess this is a Jordan-actually-posted-on-time-for-once-yippee present.  
> Oh, and expect a new drabble to be added soon as well, I'm already about 2k in so I'm expecting it to be a bit longer than the others.  
> I love hearing from you guys about what you think, so reviews are much appreciated!

 

“ _She wasn't exactly sure when it happened. Or even when it started. All she knew for sure was that right here and now, she was falling hard and she could only pray that he was feeling the same way.”_

― **Nicholas Sparks, Safe Haven**

  


Dean found it just a bit funny that for months Charlie had tried to get him to go to a GSA meeting, failing each and every time, and now it only took the promise of Castiel's presence to get him to jump on the rainbow bandwagon. Before, Dean just hadn't seen much of a point. Sure, his friends and Sam knew about Dean's sexual orientation- bisexual, by the way- but Dean wasn't exactly _out-out_ , and had never seen much of a reason to be.

Yet here he was spending his Thursday afternoon at a GSA meeting, all for a boy he'd only known for two weeks- a boy he wasn't even sure was interested in him. Somehow though, he couldn't bring himself to question it. Not when he got to spend another whole hour with Cas, even if he did, unfortunately, have to share his attention.

“Hey, everyone,” Charlie said, smiling where she stood at the front of the room, Dorothy to her left. “So first off, I want to welcome a new member to our club and to our school, Castiel Novak.”

At the mention of Cas' name, Becky Rosen, who was a hardcore member of the club, whipped her head around and began searching the room, an eager look on her face. Her gaze landed on the messy haired boy next to him, who was, by then, moving to the front of the room, likely to introduce himself. Dean watched Becky for a moment, the girl openly staring at Cas in that way she had always used to do with Sam, like he was a tasty treat that she'd like to get her paws on. He did not like that dumb dewy-eyed look on her face one bit, and he felt a twisting in his gut that he knew was jealousy.

It was ridiculous, really, especially after the announcement Cas had made at lunch the day before, but he just couldn't help it. He didn't give a damn if it was a guy, a girl, or a fucking yeti, Dean was most likely going to be jealous.

“Hello,” Cas said, grinning out at the other members of the club, as if he were trying to convey that he was, in fact, friendly. God, he was adorable. “You can just call me Cas, it's probably much easier. I'm a St. Michael's transfer and, well, I'm gay.”

With that, Cas returned to the desk next to him, though his confident smile was now gone, replaced by a look of mild nervousness. Dean knew that look well, as it was usually plastered on his face when he met new people, the one of a person who was worrying if they'd fucked up.

Dean nudged the boy next to him, who glanced up with those bright worried eyes. He flashed him a small smile that he hoped got the message across, that Cas had nothing to worry about, he'd done just fine. And if the grateful smile he received in return was anything to go by, he figured it had.

“Also,” Dorothy added, a devious look on her face that made Dean just slightly suspicious, but he was generally suspicious of everything she did. “We have another new member, though he's a bit more well known to us all.” Dean cringed, knowing exactly what was to come next. “Dean Winchester, come on down.”

Dean shot a look to Charlie, his supposed best friend, who didn't even have the decency to look him in the face. Having not been given much of a choice in the matter, Dean stood and moved to the front of the room, trying to fight the scowl off of his face. He'd save that for after the meeting, when he'd be giving Dorothy a piece of his mind.

“Um,” he started, not really sure what to say. _Hi, I like both penis and vagina, so yeah, I guess I belong here?_ He didn't exactly think that would fly here. “Most of you know me either from classes or because of my friend Charlie, who by the way is a terrible friend for allowing me to be put through this right now,” Now came the big part, the 'I'm not just here for the snacks, I literally have a reason to be here' part, “And I'm bisexual.”

Where he'd been expecting, best case scenario, surprise and maybe some whispering, he was met with very much the opposite. A few members shared smiles that even Dean, Mr. Deny-Everything, couldn't read as anything but knowing, and Becky seemed to be nearly exploding with excitement, though that last part wasn't really all that shocking.

“Well, damn,” Dorothy murmured to her girlfriend just to his right, but clearly said so he could hear it, just as he knew she'd meant for him to. “If I had known all it would take to get him to leave Narnia behind was a cute boy, I would've set that up ages ago.”

“Oh, hush,” Charlie said, nudging her as if to admonish her, though there was a small smile on her lips. She moved forward, nodding at Dean to indicate that yes, he could sit down now, which he then proceeded to do. “Well, I guess that's all for introductions, but I do also have a few announcements-”

“Sorry, sorry!” A tall woman with dark hair said, rushing into the room with a pile of papers in her arms, a teacher clearly. “My meeting with Joshua- I mean, Mr. Johansson, ran a little late.”

“Who's that?” Castiel asked as Dean slid back into his seat.

“That's Pamela,” he replied, nodding toward the older woman who was trying to organize the messy pile of papers she's carried in with her. “Well, Principal Barnes, technically, but she doesn't really care if you call her by her first name. She's cool like that.”

Their attention was pulled back to the front of the room when they heard a throat being cleared, Charlie's to be exact. “Anyway, as I was saying, I have a few announcements. One, Becky, no more spending the entire meeting talking about Stucky, no matter how cute they may be. This is a group that focuses on real life LGBTQ people, not fictional.”

“Stucky?” Castiel asked, his eyebrows furrowed together, which Dean found adorable as hell. “What the hell is a Stucky?”

“Ya know, Stucky-” Dean said, like it was just going to suddenly click in the other boys mind. It didn't, of course. “It's Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes' ship name.”

“Ship?” Cas tilted his head, as if thinking it through in his big, smart brain. “I thought Steve Rogers was Captain America, not a sailing vessel. Am I mistaken?”

“Oh my god, you really are a blank slate, aren't you?” Dean said, shaking his head, a big smile on his lips at the thought of how much he had to teach him. “Charlie and I need to educate you, like yesterday. But hell, at least you knew who Steve Rogers was.”

Cas shrugged. “My, um, my friend Max used to read comic books a lot,” he said, though he wasn't quite sure why. He'd only known Dean for a few weeks, yet here he was talking about a person he wouldn't even talk to his therapist about.

“Max?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow in questioning. “You mean-”

“Yeah,” Cas cleared his throat nervously. He looked down at his desk where his arms were folded. “Can we not talk about that, please? I- I don't really want to think about that right now.”

Damn. Upsetting your crush is generally a thing you want to avoid, and Dean had just managed to poke him right where it hurt. “Oh, um,” he said, now feeling like an utter asshole. “Right, of course. I should've just kept my trap shut, but ya know, insert foot in mouth.” He forced a laugh, trying to do something, anything to erase the look of sadness on Cas' face.

“No, no,” Cas said, shaking his head and giving Dean a clearly forced smile. “I'm fine, really, it's not you. Just... that's not exactly my favorite subject to discuss.”

They sat in silence for a moment, before, thankfully, Charlie continued on, breaking through the thick tension that had suddenly formed between the two boys. Dean, though, couldn't help but watch Cas closely out of the corner of his eye, honestly concerned about having upset the other boy.

“And, last but not least, our final announcement-” Charlie said, smiling excitedly out at the rest of them, “We will be having our annual bake sale in two weeks. This year's profits, or, well, half of them, will be donated to a LGBTQ youth shelter in Kansas City.”

“Oh!” Becky called, looking excited. “Dean should bake a few pies. We'd definitely get a crowd for those.”

Dean felt his face heat up and looked down at the desk top in front of him. He could practically feel Castiel staring at him, but chose not to look. Hell, that would probably just make it worse. But really, calling him out like that? Thanks a lot, Becky.

“They're not _that_ great,” he mumbled, but apparently Charlie still managed to hear him, despite being so far away. Either he whispered louder than he thought, or she had some crazy superhuman hearing.

“Dean Winchester,” she scolded, though her eyes told him that she wasn't really angry with him, just concerned. “You quit that right now. Your pies are the greatest in the town and you know it. Hell, didn't you win an award at the county fair for them last year?”

He shrugged. “Only 'cause you made me enter one of 'em.”

“Eh, details.” Charlie said, “Either way, they were awesome then and they're going to be awesome at the bake sale, kapish?” She raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for an answer.

“Fine,” Dean conceded, realizing he wasn't going to win the fight. He kept his eyes down on the desktop, studying the imperfections on the surface- scratches, carvings, pencil marks, and even a really bad drawing of a penguin in the corner. He still felt a gaze on him, and despite his attempts to ignore it, he just couldn't do it. He looked up and met Cas' gaze. “Can I help you?”

“You bake?” he asked, tilting his head again, and oh my god, this kid was really going to kill him with how cute and naive he was.

His gaze returned to the desk top surface at that, his face now practically on fire. “Um, yeah, I guess. I mean, my mom taught me when I was a kid and it just kind of, ya know, stuck.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Cas said, and Dean felt his throat close up a bit.

“Yeah,” he said, choking the words out. “She was.”

A moment passed and Cas seemed to have put two and two together. His eyes widened, and just as he went to open his mouth to apologize, Dean held up a hand, smiling weakly. “But, Dean-”

“Cas, it's fine.” Dean said, patting the other boy on the shoulder. “You couldn't have known. You're not a psychic, are you?”

“No,” Cas said, but he could still see the guilt and how it was now weighing him down. “But I shouldn't have assumed either. I apologize if I've brought back any unhappy memories.”

“You didn't,” he assured the other boy. “I promise."

Castiel looked a bit hesitant, studying Dean's face as if trying to see if he was being honest, or if he was just lying to spare his feelings. A few awkward seconds later, he nodded, turning back to face the front where a few people were loudly discussing what they planned to bring as Pamela hurries to scribble down a list.

"Okay," Charlie called out as the noise level really began to rise, but then again, these were teenagers they were dealing with. "Okay, I think we're good for now, guys. Pam, how many are on your list?"

The other woman hummed, reading over the sheet of paper in her hands. "I've got about 8 names down right now, unless there's anyone left that wants to volunteer, that is?"

To Dean's surprise, a hand shot up directly next to him – Cas' hand. Dean turned to look at the other boy, then back to the front where Pamela was sitting with raised eyebrows and Charlie and Dorothy were sharing a look.

"I could make something," he offered. With all eyes on him, the usually-confident boy looked a bit nervous, biting his lip. "I mean, my brother works at a bakery downtown, so I know some stuff. Or he could help us, maybe."

"Well," Pamela said, "With only one other person bringing cookies, we're gonna run out pretty quick, " She looked up at Cas, "Would that be something you'd want to do?"

"Oh, maybe we could work on them together!" Becky said, her smile just this side of sappy. "You could come over to my house and we can bake cookies and-"

"Actually," Dean could hear himself saying, though it didn't seem to have been a conscious decision made in his mind. "Cas and I were just talking about hanging out while we baked. Right, Cas?"

"Right," Cas said hurriedly, sparing Dean a grateful look. "Dean is coming over my house this weekend to bake, Charlie and Dorothy too."

"Oh, it's okay," she said, though it was clear from the jealous look on her face that it was anything but okay. "Maybe some other time?"

"Maybe," Cas replied with a forced smile.

After Becky had left, looking over her shoulder at Dean with an envious look, Cas turned to him, looking relieved.

"Thank you, really. I mean, she's not completely terrible to be around, but-"

"Dude,” Dean said, smiling at him with raised hands. “Trust me, I know. Nice girl, but entirely too creepy and clingy to hang around with. I was the new guy once.”

“Did she have a crush on you as well?” Cas asked.

Dean laughed, patting the other boy on the back. “Nah, stud, that’s all you.”

Castiel scowled at him, though he really only ended up looking like grumpy kitten who’d just taken a bath. Dean resolutely tried to ignore what it all did to his stomach, turning it into a frenzy of butterflies. Moments later, he was dragged away by Sam, who needed to get home to work on some nerdy Biology project, but he could have sworn he felt eyes on him the entire way out of the room.

It was just a testament to how hard he’d already fallen for the other boy that he couldn’t stop smiling the entire drive home and all the way up to his bedroom, where he flung himself onto the bed, shutting his eyes and being greeted with the mental image of bright blue eyes.

  


•○•○•

  


“So, Castiel, huh?” Sam asked, smiling smugly at his older brother and pushing around his green beans, which he’d told him were important to eat because they contain antioxidants and all that other healthy crap, on his plate. “He seems nice.”

“He is,” Dean responded, narrowing his eyes at Sam only to replace it a moment later with a similar smile. “And that Jessica girl that was checking you out-”

“She was?” he asked excitedly, only to stop and frown at his brother, looking annoyed. “Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean replied. He gestured at the food on the younger boy’s plate with his fork. “Now could you please eat some of that? I only made that crap because you wanted it.”

Sam shot him one of his best bitchfaces and went back to his meal. All the while grumbling under his breath about how Dean was probably going to drop dead by fifty with his eating habits.

  


•○•○•

  


“How was the meeting today, son?” Chuck asked him, smiling across the table at his youngest child. “Did you meet anyone?”

He’d nearly given his father a look of confusion, having forgotten his story for a moment. His family, aside from Anna and Gabriel, who were very hard to lie to, was under the impression that he had gone instead to a Bible club meeting. Though, in the cases of Michael and Chuck, he wasn’t really all that concerned that they would be mad. Michael was a strong Democrat with liberal tendencies, and his father was just an all around accepting man. No, he was only worried about Hester, the Jesus freak to outdo all other Jesus freaks.

“Oh, did you meet anyone?” Hester chimed in, looking suddenly interested. “I’m sure there would be plenty of nice girls there, Castiel.”

 _Only issue being that I like dick, but ya know_ , he thought, wishing he could say it aloud, but knowing that if he ever did, Hester would lose it. He wouldn’t be at risk to be kicked out, not when Chuck and Michael bring in all the money. Hester doesn’t even get paid for her full-time work at the church, but he’d certainly have to hear her mouth about it every day. Hell, she’d probably want to have her pastor “cure” him or something. No thank you.

“There were a lot of very nice people there,” Cas replied, deciding to stay neutral. He was met with a nod of approval from Anna, who sat across from him, right next to Hester. “It was very…” He thought of how at home he felt while he was at the meeting, like he belonged and was wanted. “Welcoming.”

Hester smiled, looking pleased with the answer. “Isn’t Hannah Wilson in it? She went to St. Michael’s with you, and she went to our church. You and her used to play all the time while her mother and I would work.”

As in Bible-thumping Hannah? That girl who would go around with pamphlets about the temptations of premarital sex and drugs? He remembered that Gabriel had always been one of her main targets, bringing home the pamphlets and tossing them on Cas' bed, even though he'd only ever gone as far as making out with Balthazar Roche at a party Sophomore year and he'd only ever smoked pot and cigarettes.

“We would talk about how we were going to be mother-in-laws and grandmothers together when you two got married,” Hester gave him a look that said she was still hoping for it, which only served to make Cas’ stomach churn a bit. “You should invite her over for dinner sometime, to catch up, of course.”

“Um, sure.” Cas replied, though he felt really uncomfortable even thinking about it. He refused to be bullied into a relationship by his stepmother, it just wasn’t happening.

Anna must have noticed the discomfort on her twin’s face and, in order to take the attention away from him, she started talking about the girls soccer team’s upcoming game, which would decide whether or not they would play in the tournament. Cas let out a silent sigh of relief and felt the tension leave his body. He got away with it this time, but one day he wouldn’t, and he knew it. Some day, Cas was going to just snap and accidently announce it at the dinner table, and it would probably be when she was going on about him and Hannah, who he hadn’t even really spent any time with, as he hadn’t actually gone to Bible club. But for now, he was safe.

 


	8. the kind of happy shit even crazy bitches can't ruin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It seems Charlie has invited us to a bonfire tonight.”  
> Anna's eyes lit up at that, and she stood up from where she'd been sitting on the tiled floor. "A bonfire?" Though just as quickly as her joy had come, it faded again, forming into a defeated looking frown. She sighed, "Hester's never going to let us go. She'll probably automatically assume we're doing something bad and ban us from leaving the house. "  
> "She wouldn't be entirely wrong though,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry that this is late, but I had a lot to do last week and it made writing a lot more difficult to get around to. I promise though, I'll try to stay on schedule from now on, at least as much as I can. I know this is usually updated on Mondays but I figured that as an apology I ought to just update it tonight. 
> 
> Also, it would really mean a lot to me if you guys could review and tell me what you think of the story so far, maybe some questions or something of that nature. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy. :)

** Chapter Eight - the kind of happy shit even crazy bitches can’t ruin. **

  
  


“ _ **Love does not appear with any warning signs. You fall into it as if pushed from a high diving board. No time to think about what's happening. It's inevitable. An event you can't control. A crazy, heart-stopping, roller-coaster ride that just has to take its course.”**_

― **[Jackie Collins](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/49699.Jackie_Collins), ** [ _** Lucky ** _ ](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2643917)

  
  


Saturday afternoon, when most people would be out actually having a life, Castiel and Gabriel Novak were hard at work raking leaves in the backyard. They had argued that no one really gave a damn what their backyard looked like, but Hester, of course, wasn't hearing it. In her mind, all the neighbors would think they were slobs if they didn't rake the entire property, but looking into the surrounding yards that he could see, Castiel came to the same conclusion that he usually did when it came to his stepmother – she was crazy.

He had spent the previous night tossing and turning after having woken up from a particularly vivid nightmare that had left him sweaty and horrified upon waking. A normal, concerned mother – or stepmother – would generally allow her child, if they had been kept up all night because of nightmares, to go back to bed and catch up on that missed sleep, but nope, Hester saw hard physical labor as the cure to his current predicament. Really, though, it only ended up making him tired. 

“What I don't understand,” Gabe said, huffing as he heaved up the trash bag they had just filled. “Is why Little Miss Anna doesn't have to come out here and help us.”

“You know why,” Castiel said, rolling his eyes. Hester had his twin holed up in the kitchen, cleaning every square inch until it shined. He wasn't quite whether he more envied or pitied her.

“Hester is so full of shit,” Gabe said, shaking his head in disgust, blowing his breath into his hands and rubbing them together to warm them. “How does having a goddamn vagina have anything to do with whether you can rake leaves? I swear, that woman is dumber than a sack of potatoes.”

“ I honestly  _ wish  _ Dad had married a sack of potatoes,” Castiel muttered to himself bitterly, “A sack of potatoes wouldn't have me out here in 40 degree weather raking leaves when no one but her even gives a fuck that they're there. Do you care? 'Cause I sure as hell don't.”

Just then, Castiel felt a vibration from one of his pockets, and he dropped his rake to the ground to fish it out. A tiny blue light was blinking in the corner of his screen, signaling to him that he had a text, only everyone that texts him was either currently present in the Novak residence or, in Michael's case, in class. Upon unlocking his screen, he found a text from an unknown number.

  
  


_** You wanna hang out tonight? ** _

** Now via SMS **

  
  


Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed upon reading that. Maybe someone had just texted the wrong number. Either way, he saw no reason why he shouldn’t at least text back to let them know that they’d gotten it wrong.

  
  


_** I think you may have the wrong number. ** _

** Now via SMS **

  
  


_** This is Castiel, is it not? ** _

** Now via SMS **

  
  


Or maybe hell had, in fact, frozen over, resulting in someone actually texting him. He hadn’t received a text from a non-relative since prior to the incident, as one of those people was currently unavailable to chat and the others… well nowadays they simply avoided him like he was the Black Plague or something.

  
  


_** Yes? And this is…? ** _

** Now via SMS **

  
  


_** Charlie. Anna gave all of us your #. ** _

** Now via SMS **

  
  


_** Yes, even Dean. ** _

** Now via SMS **

  
  


Castiel blushed at that. His little crush apparently had not gone unnoticed by the others, but then, he’d never exactly been very good at hiding things. He glanced up at his siblings, who were entirely engrossed in their game, before typing out a response.

  
  


_** Um, sure? What would we be doing? ** _

** Now via SMS **

  
  


_** Idk. I was thinking of shooting some Crystal Meth, then maybe robbing a bank or something. ** _

** Now via SMS **

  
  


_** Jk. We were all planning on having a bonfire down by the lake. It’d be you, me, Dorothy, Dean, Jo, and Benny. Sammy wanted to come too but Dean’s being a big poop head about it, so that’s probably all. Unless Anna wants to come too, she’s more than welcome to join in on the festivities.  ** _

** Now via SMS **

  
“ Somebody’s a popular boy today,” Gabriel said, causing Castiel to jump from how close he was standing, reading the texts from over his shoulder, which he managed only by standing on the tips of his toes. When Castiel turned to glare at his older brother he was met with a wide, shit-eating smirk and a poke in his side. “So who’s this  _ Dean _ ?”

“Fuck off, Gabriel," Castiel says under his breath with a scowl, though his face is practically on fire with how red it probably is. 

“Ohh,” He said, rubbing his hands together as his grin widened. “He must be pretty important if you're getting all flustered about it,”

“ _ Gabriel _ ,” he hissed, latching onto his brother’s arm with a strong grip, and glancing back at the house. He wasn’t sure if Hester was home or if she’d finally headed off to church to do whatever it was that she did there, and the last thing he needed was her overhearing that. Christ, of all the ways to be forced out of the closet, having your older brother shout it to the heavens while raking leaves like slaves in their backyard was not exactly ideal.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Gabe howled, trying to pull away. Apparently Castiel had accidently involved his nails in the act of restraining him. Woops. “Ouch- Jesus-fucking-Christ, Cassie, let go.”

Castiel let go, flashing his brother a feigned sheepish smile. “Oh sorry, did I do that?”

Gabe snorted, shaking his head and picked back up the rake he’d dropped near his feet before glancing back up at him over his shoulder. “So, who was that texting you? I didn’t know you actually socialized with people.”

“Gabe, do you even know how to shut up?” Castiel asked with a sigh, following his brother’s lead and preparing to get back to work. “It was just a friend of mine, Charlie. She wanted to know if I wanted to hang out later on.”

“Huh,” Gabe said thoughtfully. “Well there’s three things I never thought I’d hear mentioned in the same sentence. At least not one created by you.”

“Which would be?”

“‘I’, ‘friends’, and ‘hang out’.”

Castiel just glared at him. “You’re a real fucking dick, you know that?”

“So don’t you need to go ask Hester or whatever?” Gabriel asked inquiringly, his attention returned to the task of raking the remaining leaves into another huge pile. “You know dad wouldn’t care, but she always needs to know everything a million years ahead of time or else the world will come to an end or something.”

“I just figured I’d wait until we finished up here.” Castiel said, only to have the rake torn from his hand.

“Dude, this is like, the first time you’ve been offered a legit social life since… well, you know.” Gabriel looked a bit embarrassed for a moment, but quickly shook it off to level his sibling with a look that read ‘you will do this on your own or I will drag you and you will still do this’. “Like hell am I letting you waste this. The leaves ain’t going anywhere, Cassie, now get your ass in there and ask crazy to release you from your shackles for the night.”

“Sheesh, okay, fine.” Castiel said, shooting a weird look at his brother as he walked away toward the house. Gabriel only returned the look with a huge smile. “Remember, use that innocent look that makes you look like a baby kitten.”

“ Kittens  _ are  _ babies, Gabriel.”

“Just shut up and go. You’ve got yourself a-” he cut himself off at the warning look Castiel flashed him from the door. “Someone to win over.”

“Thanks,” Castiel said, rolling his eyes as he entered the house through the back door, finding himself in the kitchen, where Anna was busy cleaning the oven. “Um, doesn’t that clean itself?”

“It does,” she said, letting out a tired groan as she let herself sink to the floor, out of the crouch she had been in. “But apparently not well enough for Mrs. Umbridge in there.”

“Wouldn’t Filch be more fitting?” Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side in that way he did sometimes. “You know, like the part in the first book where he makes Ron polish all of the silver in the trophy room?”

“Castiel James Novak, you are well and truly worthy of the title of nerd,” Anna said, the awe in her voice obviously fake, though the smirk forming on her face helped as well.

“Thank you,” Castiel said with a snort. “Now, where is Hester? I need to ask her something.”

“Ohh,” Anna said, her interest seeming to have been peeked. “About what?”

“It seems Charlie has invited us to a bonfire tonight.”

Anna's eyes lit up at that, and she stood up from where she'd been sitting on the tiled floor. "A bonfire?" Though just as quickly as her joy had come, it faded again, forming into a defeated looking frown. She sighed, "Hester's never going to let us go. She'll probably automatically assume we're doing something bad and ban us from leaving the house. "

"She wouldn't be entirely wrong though," Castiel pointed out with a small smirk. When his twin shot him a glare, his smile faded and his serious expression returned. "Look, we just tell her-"

"Tell who what, Castiel?" An overly perky voice asked from just behind him, causing a cold sweat to break out on his neck. How much had she heard? Hopefully not enough to give her reason to not let him go. 

He turned to face her, schooling his expression into a casual smile. “I was just wondering if you’d mind if Anna and I went out with some friends tonight?”

“The both of you?” she asked in a puzzled-sounding voice. The two of them didn’t usually hang out with the same people.

“Yeah, I uh… I wanted her to meet them. My friends, that is.” He glanced over at his sister who nodded her approval at his excuse.

An odd look crossed her face just then, looking a mixture of relief and happiness. Castiel wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “Of course, sweetheart. Just be home by 11.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing more, only nodded. Hester glanced down at her watch, let out a gasp and a panicked complaint about how she was late for something. Grabbing the bag she must have come into the kitchen to collect, she dashed back through the kitchen door. Meeting his younger sister’s eyes, they both simply shrugged. Neither one of them had any idea what had just happened. And either way, they were going out tonight.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Castiel had gotten another text at around 3 o’clock telling him to be outside at 7 to be picked up. The text was from Dean, the very guy he had a crush on and who he was, to be completely honest, a little scared to get intoxicated with. Not because he didn’t trust Dean, but because he didn’t trust himself not to go running his big fat mouth. Castiel was known to get a bit chatty when he was under the influence.

After the leaves had been raked, the rest of the afternoon was spent in the the basement – or as the Novak children had taken to calling it, the Panic Room – texting Dean and stuffing his face with Cheetos while marathoning Big Bang Theory with Gabe. Every time Castiel blushed at something Dean had sent him, Gabe would make some kind of boyfriend joke and Castiel would respond with a half-hearted scowl. In all honesty, though, Castiel found it kind of comforting that Gabe saw enough of a reason to tease him about Dean, because maybe it meant that Dean did or could like him back. Castiel doubted it highly, but he could still hope. 

Come 7 o’clock, Castiel sat next to his sister on the front steps of his house, wearing clothes that were, yes, the result of an hour of scrounging his entire wardrobe for something acceptable. Finally, with the help of his twin he had settled on a pair of well-worn blue jeans, a grey Nirvana t-shirt with a red zip-up hoodie for warmth, and his black Vans. He felt pretty good about himself, even if he had failed to fix his perpetually messy hair, but really he was just thankful that he was even allowed out tonight. Usually these days his Saturday nights were spent bingeing Netflix or working on homework, and he was just excited for something different. 

When, finally, a shiny black car pulled to the curb at around 7:15, Castiel relaxed. He had been beginning to worry that they had been forgotten, although he knew that Dean would never do that. He had only known Dean for a little over a week, yet he was already completely sure of his ability to trust the other boy, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about that.

“Get in losers, we’re going partying,” Dean shouted with his hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone, causing Castiel to automatically glance back to the house, which he and Anna had begun to step away from. 

“Shhh,” Castiel hushed him when they finally approached the vehicle. He glared down at the other boy who only smiled back charmingly. He crossed his arms and leaned down a bit, making himself level with Dean. “Are you trying to get me grounded forever?”

Dean frowned, though there was a soft kind of fondness to the look he gave him. The back door of the car slammed shut and Castiel looked up to see what it was from, finding Anna to have climbed in the car and now greeting a younger boy sitting in the back seat. Sam.

Castiel smiled. “So you decided to bring Sam along after all?”

“The kid just wouldn’t shut up about it. I had to for the sake of my own sanity.” He shook his head. “No drinking though,” he called back over his shoulder at the younger boy, who simply rolled his eyes and returned to the conversation he was having with Anna. 

“Does that mean I can-”

“No smoking either, pot or otherwise.”

“Oh darn,” Sam said, a very obviously fake look of disappointment on his face. “Guess I have to leave tonight with all of my brain cells intact.”

“Not if you don’t shut up you won’t.” Dean said as he started the car. He glanced over at Castiel again before nodding at the seat next to him. “Come on, Cas. You even got shotgun.”

“ Only because you  _ made  _ me sit back here, jerk.” Sam muttered as Cas climbed in, though Castiel still heard it clearly and blushed. 

Dean was red as well when he told him, “Just ignore him.”

Cas looked back through the rearview mirror to see Sam shake his head and mouth ‘no’ at him. He nodded at Dean, pointed at Castiel, and then made a heart with his hands and flashed him a wide smile. All the while, Dean remained, thankfully, unaware. Castiel returned his eyes to the front, feeling as if his face was leaned over a fire or something. If this was how the rest of the night was to go, he was in for a long one.

 


	9. bad memories and drunkenness do not a good date make.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re leaving?” Charlie asked in a tired and slurred voice from the crook of Dorothy’s neck. “But you’re gonna miss all the fun!”  
> “I think Cas has more than enough fun coming his way right now,” Dor said, causing Charlie to giggle. She smirked, her dark eyes twinkled mischievously, darting back and forth between Castiel and Dean, who came up next to him just as she finished talking. She winked at Castiel, like she was sending him some sort of message or something, before turning her attention back to her girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late, but I've been sick for the past couple of days along with a bunch of other crap that I won't get into at the moment (if any of you happen to follow me on Tumblr, you probably already know what I'm talking about). I'm not sure how good this chapter is, but I guess I'll leave that up to you guys to decide. Enjoy. :)

 

“ _Why is it," he said, one time, at the subway entrance, "I feel I've known you so many years?"_

_"Because I like you," she said, "and I don't want anything from you.”_

**\- Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451**

  


The first thing Castiel noticed when the woods came into sight was a trail of smoke drifting up in the distance, completely visible even in the darkening sky. Now, he wasn’t an expert on bonfires or anything, but weren’t they generally frowned upon? At least when they were off of a person’s own property, that is.

Dean must have noticed his staring because he chucked, pulling up at a curb in front of a house a few feet away from the woods. He turned to face Cas with a reassuring smile that still managed to hold just a smidge of his usual cockiness. “Don’t worry, Cas, we wouldn’t want to ruin your first bonfire with the group with a messy arrest. The cops around here don’t give a damn, so long as we don’t burn the place down.”

“So what, they just see the smoke and think, ‘oh, those crazy kids’ or whatever?” Anna asked jokingly.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Dean said, shutting off the car and looking into the rearview mirror, where he could presumably see Anna and Sam. “Like I said, so long as there’s no trouble, they couldn’t care less. Plus, my uncle Bobby’s good friends with Sheriff Mills. They- that is, my aunt, uncle, and the sheriff- play poker every Thursday night.”

“Huh,” Castiel said, taking that bit of information and storing it somewhere in the back of his mind for safekeeping. Maybe someday it would be of some use to him.

The image that popped into his head of just him and Dean hanging out in the woods, passing a joint back and forth, and maybe kissing a little or maybe more made him blush bright red and a click snapped him out of it. He noticed then that he was the only one in the vehicle not unbuckling and climbing out, so he hurried to catch up to the others, not wanting them to think he’d been zoning out- which he was, but still.

When they made it to the treeline, they were almost immediately met with the sounds of loud chatter and crunching leaves. A shriek, which nearly scared Castiel half to death, came from around the other side of a large tree and seconds later, he found himself with arms full of over excited redhead.

“You came!” she shouted happily, only to be shushed by Dean. She turned and pouted over at him, but said nothing, simply wrapping her arms more firmly around Castiel. Her attention returned to Castiel and her smile returned full-force. “I wasn’t sure if you would come.  But I’m so, so glad that you did!”

More leaves crunched and from around the very same bush that Charlie had come around came Dorothy, looking exasperated. She sighed, but smiled fondly at the other girl. She came up behind Charlie, pulling her back from Castiel and into her, also wrapping her thin arms around her waist and resting her head on Charlie’s shoulder.

“Sorry, she’s a bit buzzed right now,” Dorothy said, smiling apologetically at the four of them. “She’s a bit of a lightweight.”

“I am not!” Charlie said, pouting indignantly.

“ _Anyway_ ,” she said, clearly not seeing a point in furthering that particular argument. “We’re all glad you could make it.”

They all started down the path toward the others, the voices they’d heard before growing louder the closer they got to the lake. Eventually, they reached a clearing in the trees, and were met with the sight of a decently sized fire and their friends and a few unfamiliar faces. Some were sitting around the fire in lawn chairs that somebody had thought to bring or sitting a little ways back on a ledge about 4 feet above the ground. When they caught sight of the newcomers, they all turned their attention to them, shouting welcomes and some even raising their drinks in greeting.

Once they’d chosen seats around the fire, two beach chairs, one orange and the other pink, they both heard a throat clear from next to them on their right. A red plastic cup was thrust into Castiel’s hand, and when he looked over he met the flushed face of Benny Lafitte, who smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Drink up, brotha.”

The cup was nearly filled to the brim with a bubbling dark amber liquid, and, after swishing it around a bit, Castiel brought it to his lips and drank. The face he felt himself make was more akin to if he’d drunk sewage, but honestly, it didn’t taste that much different.

“Not a beer person, eh?” Dean asked, nudging his friend with kind smile and a nod toward the cup in his hand. Castiel shook his head, but his attention was quickly swallowed up by the sight of the other boy, his green eyes now glowing in the firelight. They were usually a beautiful olive green, but right then, they seemed to be almost emerald - bright and sparkling with joy.

“Not this beer, at least.” he said, placing the cup in the cup holder built into the armrest of the chair. Dean took a sip, presumably his first if the expression on his face following that sip was anything to go by.

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Dean agreed in a disgusted voice, placing his own drink down. “It kind of tastes like watered-down cat piss.”

“Hey, don’t go hatin’ on the beer, brotha.” Benny said, pointing to Dean with the cup in his hand, a look of mock annoyance on his face. “This was all I could get from the Roadhouse without Ellen gettin’ all ‘spicious.”

“Not to worry,” Anna said, drawing everyone’s attention to her. She had a secretive little smile on her face, one that automatically concerned Castiel. From the big leather bag she brought along, the one he had just assumed was her purse, she pulled a large dark blue glass bottle filled with clear liquid. Across the front of the bottle, it read, in white lettering, SKYY VODKA. “Will this do?” she asked, her grin widening as cheers and clapping broke out amongst the others.

“Where did you get that?” Castiel asked, hoping it wasn’t from where he thought it was, because if that was the case, they were both dead meat. Even more so than they already expected to be, coming home drunk and all.

Anna rolled her eyes, passing the bottle off to Benny, who began pouring the clear liquid into new cups, given to each person by Jo. “Cassie, I’m not an idiot. I made sure to take from the one’s Hester confiscated from Dad. Remember her last raid on his office? One of these, and,” Again, she reached into her bag, plucking out two more bottles, both filled with a rich amber liquid. “Two bottles of good ol’ Jim Beam.”

“Cas,” Dean said softly, “I think your sister may have just made herself queen.”

“Excuse me?” Charlie called, her lips forming a pout, from his other side, where she was curled up in her girlfriend’s lap, their combined weight somehow still able to be supported by the chair they sat in. “I’m queen!”

Dean chuckled, “Sorry, your _majesty_.”

“Damn right,” Charlie agreed, placing her head back down on Dor’s shoulder, where the other girl continued combing a hand through her vibrant hair.

“I just feel bad I didn’t bring anything,” Castiel said regretfully, leaning back in his seat. “And I just got an ounce of weed last weekend, too. I should have brought it with me.”

“You smoke?” Dean asked curiously.

“I mean, yeah, sometimes.” Castiel said with a shrug. “I’m definitely not a pothead or anything, though.”

“Maybe we could do it together sometime,” Dean said, only to, a few seconds later, realize what he had actually said. His eyes widened and his face started to look a bit like a tomato. “Pot, that is. Just pot,” he stammered.

“I’d like that.” he said, smiling softly at the other boy, who still looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. Jo passed him a cup, which was quickly filled with vodka. He knew the kind of crap that his father drank was strong, as he claimed the alcohol helped him write. But given that his novels had never actually managed to make it big, despite being published, Castiel had some difficulty believing that.

He took a sip, apparently too big of one for someone who’d never had it before, and coughed. It was very strong. A moment later, after his eyes stopped watering and his throat stopped burning like he’d swallowed a lit match, he carefully took another, this time the liquor going down much more smoothly.

“So, did you see that thing with that Alfie kid today?” Meg asked. He was a bit shocked to see her there, considering the group only seemed to just tolerate her, but apparently he was wrong, because there she was.

“Maybe the kid just went off the rails?” A boy, Victor, he thought his name was, said. “I mean he’s only been picked on by those douchenozzles since fucking junior high.”

Sounds of agreement came from the rest of the group, though one person, Ash, spoke up and said what Castiel knew they all had to be thinking. Castiel chugged the rest of his drink, not wanting to hear the rest.

“Yeah but what about that whole Zachariah thing? Who the fuck is Zachariah?”

  


* * *

  


“ _Zachariah, huh?” Castiel asked, pulling himself up onto the rock his friend was sitting on, his arms wrapped tight around his pulled-up legs and his head down. Frowning, he placed a hand on the other boy’s shoulder, shaking gently. “Bud, you’ve gotta tell me what happened.”_

_All he knew about the situation, from what he could drag out of other people at school, was that some dude named Zachariah had been messing with Max earlier in the day. Max had apparently been doing nothing wrong, when suddenly this asshole decided to start with him, and of course, his friend had refused to fight back and now was refusing to let Castiel do it for him._

“ _It’s over, Castiel, seriously.” Max said, still not looking up._

“ _Like hell it is,” Castiel said incredulously. “I’ll kick his ass for messing with you. Nobody messes with my friends.”_

“ _As much as I appreciate that, honestly,” he said, lifting his head and allowing Castiel to see his bruised face. “I’d rather you just leave it alone.”_

_Castiel sighed, looking down where he saw what looked to him like a snapping turtle, thought it was a bit small for it’s species, wandering around the edge of the water. “Can you at least tell me why he did it?”_

_A moment passed, then two, before Max said, “He said he didn’t like the look of me,” he smirked half-heartedly. “Said creeps like me had to be put in our place.”_

“ _You’re not a freak, Max.”_

_Max’s eyes moving to the water, where the snapping turtle was still moving about, seemingly looking for something. “Don’t be so sure, Cassie,” Max said, just as the turtle reached it’s face into a little tuft of grass, pulling back out a small wriggling garter snake and closing it’s jaws on it, effectively ceasing the creatures movements._

  


* * *

  


“Cas, _Cas_ ,” he heard someone say, and when he was able to snap out of it, he met the worried eyes of one Dean Winchester. The look of worry soon turned to one of relief, but still his friend placed a hand on his chair’s armrest, leaning forward, asking, “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I, um-” Cas shaked his head, as if to clear it. “I must have just zoned out for a minute. Sorry.”

Dean raised an eyebrow in disbelief at his friend, “Um, Cas, I’ve been trying to snap you out of it for at least a few minutes now. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Dean. I promise,” Castiel assured, looking out at the very lake from his memories. Now, in the dark, he couldn’t see very well, but he could have sworn he’d seen something oval-shaped gliding through the black water. In an instant, though, there was no trace.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Dean asked. Castiel looked up and over at Anna, who was talking animately with Jo and another blond girl that he thought might be named Ruby. “Sammy has his permit and he isn’t drinking tonight, he can drive her home. Or maybe she can spend the night at Jo’s.”

Castiel, suddenly feeling very tired, only nodded. Home. That sounded like a great idea. Dean stood up and made his way over to Jo, who he bent down to talk to. There was a word here and there that he was able to catch, but the memory of hearing them quickly faded to the back of his mind. With a nod from Jo, Dean smiled, patting the girl on the head like a dog, much to her dismay, and moved to walk back to Castiel.

“You’re leaving?” Charlie asked in a tired and slurred voice from the crook of Dorothy’s neck. “But you’re gonna miss all the fun!”

“I think Cas has more than enough fun coming his way right now,” Dor said, causing Charlie to giggle. She smirked, her dark eyes twinkled mischievously, darting back and forth between Castiel and Dean, who came up next to him just as she finished talking. She winked at Castiel, like she was sending him some sort of message or something, before turning her attention back to her girlfriend.

“Ready to go?” Dean asked, twirling his car keys around his pointer finger in a way that normally would have warranted a patented Castiel Novak eye-roll, but instead only got a nod. Castiel stood up, but almost immediately he fell back, his legs having turned to Jell-O.

“Woah, buddy." Dean said, catching him just before he crashed back into the beach chair. He looked down at the other boy, who, when he started to slip from his grip, he wrapped his arms around. "I thought you only had a sip of beer?"

"Vodka," Castiel added, leaning into Dean's side. "Chugged it. I don't feel so good, Dean."

"I know, ba- buddy." Dean said, and Castiel felt his arm being lifted, then being rested across the back of someone's, presumably Dean's, neck. "Come on, let's go."

"No," Cas said quickly, "I can't go home like this. Hester will kill me."

"Then we'll drive around a little, sober you up." Dean said, beginning the trek up the path to the car. "How does that sound?"

Cas hummed, but was otherwise silent the rest of the way up to the Impala, as the alcohol started kicking in, making him tired. Dean opened the passenger side door, helping the other boy to maneuver himself into the car, before going around and climbing in himself.

"What about Sam?" Castiel asked, hoping he wouldn't be the reason for Sam being left without his brother to look after him. "Is he coming too?"

"Nah, I just asked Jo to keep an eye on the Sasquatch." He said with a grin at Cas as he started up the engine. "He'll be fine."

For the next hour or so, Dean and Castiel drove around town, talking talking movies and music and just about anything else that came to mind, waiting for Castiel to sober up. It should have been weird, given that Castiel was quite buzzed, but as his drunken haze began to lift, their conversation became more in-depth and comfortable. By the time they pulled up to Castiel’s house at 10:30, they were both laughing and talking like they'd known each other their whole lives, despite only having known each other for a week.

  


* * *

  


Dean pulled up in front of an old Ford truck in front of the house, turned the engine and the radio off, and faced Castiel with a smile.

"So here we are," he said, smiling in what almost like regret. "Home sweet home."

Castiel scoffed unbuckling his seatbelt. "Yeah, right. It's real sweet."

"I just meant, ya know, how you can go lay down and sleep it off now." He said with a small shrug, not quite sure what to do with what he'd said.

"That's if Hester, that's my stepmother, doesn't kill me first," Castiel said, looking a bit nervous.

"Well, hopefully she won't." Dean joked, grinning. "A lot of people would miss you."

"Thanks.” He huffed a weak laugh, looking up at Dean bashfully through his eyelashes. “I, um, I had fun tonight."

Dean fought back the urge to just lean in, just lean in real quick and kiss him. The only thing that stopped him was the mental image of Cas, disgusted by Dean making a move on him. The last thing he wanted was to risk their friendship over a dumb kiss.

"Me too,"

“And I’m really sorry about the whole,” Castiel said, making a gesture with his hand, “Ya know, having to sober me up thing.”

“Really, Cas, it’s fine.” Dean said firmly. “I honestly had fun. Hell, I feel like I know you a little better now.”

“Because I told you I like Star Wars?” Castiel asked curiously.

“Well, yes,” Dean said, chuckling. “But that’s mostly because I found your inner nerd. But in general, the whole favorite song, favorite food, favorite color thing told me a lot about you.”

“Good things?” Castiel looked hopeful.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, he heard a door slam open, followed by a shout of, "Oh! Cassie, you're home. "

"Cassie?"

"That'd be Hester." Castiel said, sighing unhappily. “I’ve gotta go, but text me, okay? Charlie said you had my number.”

And with that, he climbed out of the car, hurrying up to his house by cutting across the lawn. The woman on the doorstep frowned at him, and seemed to be just beginning a lecture on something when she took him by the shoulder and began leading him into the house, but not before he was able to look back, flashing Dean a small smile just before Hester sent him ahead into the house. Hester, though, didn’t go with him, instead turning back to stare in the direction of the Impala. She watched it for a moment, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, before going in as well.

 


	10. maybe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes,” Charlie said, glaring down at Dean with a pout on her lips. “We both apparently missed a lot of something.”  
> “And I don’t feel like being interrogated right now, Char,” Dean said with a sigh of exhaustion, finally feeling the tiredness he should have felt earlier from staying up most of the night texting Cas.  
> “But, Dean…” Charlie groaned in frustration, letting herself fall back onto her bed, spreading her arms wide to take up half of her bed. “Come on, something must have happened. I want to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is nowhere near my best chapter, I know, you don't need to tell me. I've been super busy with school for the past few weeks and only just got around to writing this chapter this week. Please forgive me if this chapter is a bit of a let down, but I promise that the next one will be much better, which basically translates to more Max stuff and Destiel fluff.

_“I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you.”_

**―Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince**

Dean returned home about an hour and a half after leaving the bonfire to find the house dark, all except for the living room, from which blue light from the TV screen was shining out into the hall. Glancing in, so as not to startle anyone, he found Sam and Jo passed out on the couch while the first Pirates of the Caribbean played on low volume. He moved quietly, trying to avoid the floorboards he knew would squeak, and turned off the TV entirely, sending the room into darkness but thankfully not waking either of the sleeping teens.

After checking that all the doors and windows were shut and locked, he headed upstairs to his room, closing the door behind him and letting out a breath. He made quick work of his jeans, pulling them off and trading them in for a pair of soft grey sweatpants, then settled down on his bed with his back leaning against the wall, though he tried to make it a bit more comfortable with pillows. Then, once he had decided he was comfortable enough, he realized something.

Fuck, he thought, scooting down the bed to lean over and pluck his jeans from the floor. From one of the pockets he produced his cell phone, a cheap pre-paid sliding keyboard phone, but a cell phone nonetheless.

He searched through his short list of contacts, mostly people like Bobby, Charlie, and Benny, people he considered to be his family, once he hit the C’s he quickly came to Cas’ name, which was the very first one.

**So, I guess Sam and Jo beat me home, ‘cause they’re passed out in my living room. Dean typed, reading it over and considering whether it was worth sending before deciding he might as well. He figured it’d at least get the ball rolling on a conversation.**

Moments later his phone dinged with a response.

**_I’m glad they arrived home safe._ **

Dean smiled to himself, thinking of what a sweetheart Castiel was when his phone dinged again.

**_Hester is currently pestering me about the bonfire. She apparently wants ‘all the deets’._ **

He chewed on his bottom lip, debating whether or not to ask the question that was on his mind.

**And what exactly would those ‘deets’ be?**

He found himself regretting it almost immediately after sending it. Fearing the response that he would receive, maybe being called out on his little crush or Cas just flat out rejecting him, Dean stood up and started pacing.

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait too long.

_**I’m not really sure. I just told her I’m tired and want to go to bed. Thankfully, she let me go.** _

Dean couldn’t help but feel a bit let down by the answer, though he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t, that it was fine that Cas didn’t see him that way. When the ache of disappointment didn’t go away, though, he knew it wasn’t. Not really.

**Does that mean you want me to let you go? It’s fine if you’re tired.**

**_No, I want to talk to you._ **

He grinned down at his phone, though he could feel how wide and stupid it must have looked, but Cas wanted to talk to him and that was all that mattered right then. Dean tried to ignore the feeling in his gut right then, the sudden trickle of hope that maybe, even if it wasn’t exactly the way he wanted, he did mean a little more to Cas than he’d thought.

* * *

“Charlie, honey, I think Gertrude may in fact be the best future mother-in-law ever,” Dorothy said through a mouthful of what looked like chocolate chip cookie, entering the room with a paper bag in the hand she wasn’t holding the cookie in, and, thankfully, interrupting their conversation. She kicked the door shut behind her with a grin, opening her mouth to say something else, most likely about Charlie’s mother, before meeting her girlfriend’s eyes, causing her eyebrows to raise. “Did I miss something?” she asked through a mouthful of cookie, tiny crumbs tumbling out of her mouth.

“Yes,” Charlie said, glaring down at Dean with a pout on her lips. “We both apparently missed a lot of something.”

“And I don’t feel like being interrogated right now, Char,” Dean said with a sigh of exhaustion, finally feeling the tiredness he should have felt earlier from staying up most of the night texting Cas.

“But, Dean…” Charlie groaned in frustration, letting herself fall back onto her bed, spreading her arms wide to take up half of her bed. “Come on, something must have happened. I want to know.”

“Babe,” Dorothy said, placing the sideways paper bag she’d brought in on her girlfriend’s desk and turned to the other girl with a look of disapproval. “Maybe if you weren’t practically grilling the boy he’d tell you.”

Charlie, being the mature almost-adult she was, stuck her tongue out and crossed her arms, causing Dorothy to roll her eyes and turn her attention to Dean, who was just waiting for the girl’s next smartass comment to fly.

“So,” Dorothy said, moving to sit next to Dean on the floor. Once she was sitting pretzel-style on the floor, she met his gaze, amusement sparkling in her own honey-colored eyes. “You and Castiel looked pretty cozy when you two left.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, scowling just slightly. “He was drunk, Dor. I had to help him walk to the car.”

“I think you’re leaving something out, Dean,” Dorothy replied innocently, though it only served to make Dean suspicious. Did she know something else? Did Cas mention what happened to any of their friends?

Finally, Dean found that he was unable to keep quiet anymore. Not with Dorothy and now Charlie, who had sat up to stare down at her friend with a look of curiosity. “We went for a drive afterward to help him sober up,” Dean grumbled, shrugging and looking down at his lap.

“A drive?” Charlie asked, looking every bit like an eager puppy, smiling and bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Down girl,” Dean chuckled and gave her a small smile, which she returned with a small huff, “He just didn’t want to go home like that. Apparently his stepmother is a real bitch.”

The brunette girl met her girlfriend’s eyes over Dean’s head and, just from watching her face, he assumed they had come to some sort of agreement.

“I think this conversation calls for some junk food,” Dorothy said firmly, reaching over and carefully pulling the paper bag off of the desk and placing it on the floor in front of them. From inside, she pulled out two styrofoam takeout boxes. “Good thing I was craving cheese fries, because I picked up that and buffalo wings.”

“So, what? You had a feeling I was going to have some sort of relationship crisis to talk about?” Dean asked, not quite sure if he should be insulted or not. He was getting food out of this, after all.

“Relationship?” Charlie asked happily. He ignored her, keeping his attention on Dorothy.

“Actually, I just really wanted some cheese fries,” Dorothy said like it was completely obvious. Looking over, Dean caught sight of the cheesy goodness inside of the takeout box and his mouth began to water.

“Can I have some?” he asked.

“If you tell us about your little after bonfire date, you can,” Charlie answered for her, shooting Dorothy a look when she just looked up at her with raised eyebrows. The ginger girl just smiled, leaning over to run a hand gently through the other girl’s dark hair. “Oh, you can share, Dor.”

“Nothing happened, I swear,” Dean said almost bitterly. “Trust me, you would be the first to know if something had gone down.”

Charlie giggled, but forced herself to calm down just long enough to choke out, “Or someone,” before dissolving into a fit of giggles along with Dor.

Dean huffed in frustration, opening his mouth to say something that would have been totally cool and witty, but the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket gave him pause. He glanced over at his friends, who had finally finished laughing at him and were now busy arguing over which movie to watch. He pulled it out, turned on the screen, and read the text message that had popped up.

**_I have come to the sad conclusion that my brother, Gabriel, may actually be worse than Hester._ **

Having not even met the woman beyond her weird staring the night before, Dean still found that hard to believe. This Gabriel kid would have to be truly terrible if he were worse than Hester.

 **How so?** he asked.

**_Well, for one, he’s been following me around all day asking about my supposed ‘boyfriend’._ **

Boyfriend. Gabriel thought that Dean was Cas’ boyfriend. Dean wasn’t really sure what to do with that information other than to store it away to freak out over later on, when he hopefully had less of an audience- then again, knowing Charlie, she’d be completely absorbed in the movie they were watching, which happened to be The Incredible Hulk- but still, he didn’t want to risk it.

Dean worried his bottom lip between his teeth, debating on whether or not to ask what was on his mind. What the hell, he figured, pressing send.

**What’d you tell him?**

_**That I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment.** _

“Char?” Dean asked hesitantly, hoping she wouldn’t jump right back in as the bad cop.

She hummed, clearly distracted by the action on screen, “Yes, sweetums?”

Dean paused, considering whether he really needed to ask her this. The last thing he needed, on top of all this confusion, was his best friend to be on his back about it. He had a feeling he wouldn’t even need the reminder.

“What does it mean when someone tells you ‘not at the moment’?” he asked.

He felt her eyes on him, which just showed how confused she must be if she’d actually stopped watching a movie to stare at him, “What do you mean?”

“I mean if someone tells you that something isn’t true ‘at the moment’.” He told her, avoiding her eyes.

“Well,” she said, seeming to be considering it. “I guess it would mean that. while it might not be true right then, they’re open to the possibility of it happening in general.”

“So it’s not a flat-out ‘no’?” he asked hopefully.

“More like a maybe someday kind of thing,” she corrected him, “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Dean said thoughtfully, looking down again at a new text message on his screen with a small smile that he tried valiantly to hide.

**_Do you want to hang out tonight?_ **

Maybe there was some hope after all.

* * *

Dean entered the Winchester house with a wide grin on his face, one that he couldn’t fight off no matter how hard he tried. All he could think about was Cas and how, suddenly, he could see something good coming of his crush. A world where he and Cas may go on dates or to dances together, or hell, even just curl up and watch a movie on a rainy day, that was suddenly plausible, and he was unable to shake the happiness those thoughts brought him.

That happiness, however, was apparently meant to be short-lived.

“Dean,” Sam said, eyes dull and voice somber though he seemed to be fighting to look happy. Dean was going to ask what was the matter when a hand gripping his shoulder cut him off. He turned his head to the side, trying to see who it was, though he had a feeling already, meeting his father’s eyes.

“Son,” John said, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a weak smile. “Glad to see you.”

Dean felt the joy and hope that had been coursing through his body the whole afternoon drain away, like John Winchester’s mere presence were the removal of a stopper that had been holding all his positive emotions within him.

 


	11. shut your mouth or ruin it all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not interested in anyone right now,” he lied, though he knew he didn’t sound even vaguely convincing.  
> “Liar,” His father chuckled. “Come on, I wanna hear about this girl that’s got you blushing like that.”  
> Dean opened his mouth to again tell his father that there wasn’t anyone, but he was cut off by Sam saying, “Her name is Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that my schedule for this story is all fucked up, but I promise that chapters are still coming your way. I'm definitely not abandoning this story. But we're about 3/4 of the way through the story, so probably about four or five more chapters? Something like that. Anyway, enjoy.

****

“ _O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;_

_ It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock _

_ The meat it feeds on.” _

― **William Shakespeare, Othello**

  
  


Having dad home was strange, to say the least. After nearly a month without him present, they had grown rather used to him not being around, and to suddenly toss him back into their lives threw things off for them. Whereas before, Dean could do and say just about anything he needed or wanted to say, but now with John home he had to consider every word that came out of his mouth, out of fear of setting off the older man. 

He definitely couldn’t talk about Castiel, or tell Sam how he thought he might have a chance now, that the other boy might possibly return his feelings and how that knowledge had made him feel light as air, like he could do anything. Of course, that was up until he’d seen John, but still. He’d been happy, and he couldn’t even tell Sam about it. 

“So,” John said at the dinner table a few hours after he’d arrived home. Dean had seen it as necessary to make dinner a bit earlier, since he planned to go out with Cas at around seven. He’d made steak and baked potatoes, his father’s favorite, and they were currently sitting around the table, the boys trying to enjoy their meal, despite the awkwardness of having their father home. “How are things around here?”

Dean looked over at Sam, who simply nodded and went back to his food. He met their father’s eyes, though the weight of his intense gaze made the back of his neck break out in a cold sweat. “Things are good. Sammy and I are both doing well at school and Bobby gave me some extra hours at the Roadhouse.”

“You mean you’re leaving Sam alone?” John asked, disapproval evident in his voice.

“He usually hangs out upstairs with Jess while I work,” Dean told him.

“Jess?” John asked, raising his eyebrows and smiling a bit. “And who might that be?”

Sam blushed a dark red, looking down at his plate, “Dean, shut up.”

“Jess is Sammy’s little girlfriend,” Dean told him, smirking at his younger sibling, who only proceeded to look more embarrassed. “Though he’s too much of a wuss to do anything about it.”

“Am not!” Sam argued, glaring at his brother. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I kissed her yesterday.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up and a proud smile spread across his face, “Way to go, Sammy.”

“And what about you, Dean?” John asked, smiling. “Any special girl in your life?”

That gave Dean pause and he blushed, though not as dark as Sam had.

John looked over at Sam who was looking a bit worried, though he quickly hid it when John caught his eye. His father turned back to smirk at Dean. “What’s her name?”

“I’m not interested in anyone right now,” he lied, though he knew he didn’t sound even vaguely convincing.

“Liar,” His father chuckled. “Come on, I wanna hear about this girl that’s got you blushing like that.”

Dean opened his mouth to again tell his father that there wasn’t anyone, but he was cut off by Sam saying, “Her name is Cas.”

Dean looked over at Sam, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Why the hell would he think to say that?

“Cas, huh?” John asked, taking a bite of steak. Though his mouth was full, he continued with, “That short for something?”

Dean thought of how Cas always complained about his brother’s calling him Cassie. When they were younger, they’d called him it and he hadn’t cared, but once he started school and kids started picking up on it and using it as some sort of sexist insult, he grew to dispise it. 

“Cassie,” Dean said, feeling like a dick for using that name.

“And when do I get to meet this Cassie?” John asked his son, looking almost excited, or well, as excited as someone like John Winchester could ever look. “You should invite her to dinner, and Jess too. I wanna meet these girls.”

“Cas and I aren’t exactly-”

“Oh,” John said, looking awkward, but like he understood. “You’re being safe though, right?”

Dean’s eyes widened and he shook his head, “No, no, I meant we aren’t exactly that serious yet. We only just started seeing each other and I don’t wanna scare hi-her off.”

John looked suspicious, though he shrugged and went back to his food. “Well, let me know if you two ever do get serious.”

Dean nodded, feeling relieved that his father hadn’t pushed the subject. For now he could play along and pretend Cas was a girl, then a little while down the road, if his father ever asked again, he could tell him they broke up. It would be easy.

“ You know,” John said, chuckling almost bitterly. “I’m glad you boys turned out alright, liking girls and all, not  _ fags _ ,” Sam’s lips thinned out and his eyes narrowed, and, just as he looked like he was going to open his mouth to say something to their father, Dean shot him a look, causing him to deflate and back down, “This last case, oh boy was it something. Two fucking queens, one of them turned out to be a goddamn shapeshifter and the other normal… or well, normal for someone like that. Anyway, I obviously had to kill the one. Not entirely disappointed in that, though, people like that don’t need to be let to run around, corrupting others.”

Dean bit his tongue, fighting back the urge to go off on his father, because he knew well and good what would happen if he did, and unless he liked the idea of being homeless and never seeing Sammy again, he knew to shut up about it. 

He cleared his throat, trying to sound calm and unaffected when he asked, “Can you pass the steak?”

Dean felt Sam’s eyes on him, but chose not to look his way. He didn’t want to see the pity in his little brother’s eyes. Not him, not when he was already feeling the heavy weight of shame in his gut. What would happen if his father found out about how he felt about Cas? Dean was still unsure of the other boy’s feelings toward him, but if they ever worked it out and got together, would they be forced to hide it? The thought made Dean sick with guilt. He could never do that to someone, and especially not to Cas. Cas deserved someone who was able to proudly shout to the world how they felt about him, someone who would treat him like he deserved, like a prince.

Guess that was just yet another thing to hold him back, huh?

The plate of steak was passed to him, but with his stomach feeling as sick as it did, he found that any trace of hunger that was once there was long gone. He placed the plate back in the center of the table, taking nothing from it. 

“Could I be excused?” He asked, hoping his voice didn’t betray anything. Thankfully John seemed to be unaware, if a bit confused, while Sammy sent him a look of sympathy. Dean got up from the table and headed for the stairs, only to be stopped by John’s next words.

“Hey, Dean?” John said, and when Dean turned it was to find his father looking at him in a proud sort of way, which only served to make his stomach churn more with guilt. “Missed you on this one buddy. I really could have used your help out there.”

“Had to stay with Sammy,” Dean said, forcing a smile.

John nodded, “I know, I just-” He seemed to be struggling for the words to say, “You’re a good guy to have on a hunt.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, feeling awkward now and wanting nothing more than to not be under his father’s gaze anymore. “I um, I gotta go get ready. Um, Jo and I are hanging out tonight.”

For the longest time, John had been convinced of a relationship between him and the blonde, even handing him a box of condoms one day after he’d found the two of them asleep on the couch. To the untrained eye, it would have come off intimate, but to Jo and Dean, who had been friends since they were both in diapers, even despite the distance between them when the Winchesters were still living on the road, it was completely normal. 

Jo had admitted, once when the two of them were drinking, passing a bottle of Jack Daniels back and forth, that she’d had a huge crush on him as a kid:

“ _Come on, you were cute.” She’d said, smiling, her words a bit slurred from the half bottle of whiskey she’d drank. Jo leaned over and shoved at his arm playfully. “I was a little tomboy who had a crush on her best friend. I was a fucking cliche.”_

“ _Jo, everything about you is kind of cliche,” Dean had said, jokingly, only to be shoved a second time, which resulted in him landing on the floor, sprawled out and Jo laughing so hard she almost puked._

“Okay, okay, go on,” His father said, waving his son off with his fork, dismissing him. “Have fun and be careful.”

“I will,” Dean assured him before heading upstairs to tear his room apart for something to wear, though he felt the need to continue reminding himself that it was not a date. But even if it wasn’t, who said he had to look like a slob?

  
  


* * *

  
  


Cas really should have seen it coming, especially with Hester’s recent behavior and all. Everytime he pulled out his phone to read a text, more often than not from Dean, he would crack a smile and Hester would seem to just light up like it was Christmas or something, but apparently it never really clicked in his head what it could mean. So when Hester finally approached him about it as he was getting ready to hang out with Dean that night, he was caught completely off-guard.

“So, who is she?” Hester asked, clearly trying to refrain from smiling.

“Who is who?” Cas asked, confused. He looked in the mirror, studying his reflection, only to decide that no, that shirt was wasn’t going to do, and moved to his dresser to find another more suitable t-shirt.

“The girl you’re getting all dressed up for,” Hester said, like it was obvious.

Cas’ eyes widened at that, though he tried to reign in his shock, not wanting to make things worse by freaking out and probably outing himself. He grabbed a random t-shirt from the drawer, an old Panic At The Disco tee, and looked at his stepmother with raised eyebrows.

“I was going to get changed,” he said plainly, hoping she’d just let it go and leave. 

Hester suddenly looked embarrassed, a first for her. Usually she seemed so calm and collected, yet here she was, all excited over him and some non-existent girl. “Right, I’ll go in just a moment, but what’s her name?”

“Name?” Castiel asked, suddenly feeling anxious.

Hester giggled, “Yes, Castiel, her name. What is it?”

Castiel tried to think of something, but his mind had completely blanked. He could barely think of his own name, let alone a girl’s. He pictured bright green eyes and freckles, and suddenly a name was falling from his lips.

“D-Deanna,” Cas stuttered out, feeling his face flush when it dawned on him what he’d just said. Had he really just said that? “Deanna Winchester.”

“Well, that’s a lovely name,” Hester said happily, turning and moving to shut the door behind her, but first stopping and smiling at her stepson. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

When the door finally closed, Castiel stared at his reflection, which showed a blushing boy with wide, worried blue eyes, and a tensed body. He could not believe what he’d just said. “Fuck,” he cursed, sitting back on his bed, looking down at the floor as he bunched up the shirt in his hands. “Why did I do that?”

Unsure how to fix this on his own, he pulled out his phone, considering who to ask. Dean would normally be his first choice, but given that he’d just used a feminine version of his name as the name of his fake girlfriend, he figured that wasn’t too good of an idea. Scrolling through his short list of contacts, he came across Meg’s name. He and Meg had, over the past few weeks, talked quite a bit, especially now that she’d taken to sitting with them at lunch. Also, it turned out, she was in his 6th period AP English class, a class she excelled in.

** I think I fucked up. **

A moment later, as he was biting on his thumb nail, his phone pinged. 

_** Fucked up how, exactly? ** _

** Like the kind where my stepmom thinks I’m dating a girl and when she asked for her name I said Deanna. So majorly. **

_** Great job, Clarence. Proud of you. ** _

Castiel chose to ignore the sarcasm that was practically dripping from that one, asking her:

** What do I do? **

_** I mean, you could always let her go on thinking it. ** _

** I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with that, Meg. She’s very, um, pushy when it comes to that stuff. She’d want to meet her. **

_** So let her. I’ll help. ** _

** Meg, I think you’ve forgotten that I’m gay and so there is no girlfriend. **

_** No, genius, I mean I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend and have the whole dinner with the fam thing, then we’ll stage a breakup. Easy-peasy. ** _

** You’d do that? **

_** Did I not just offer? ;p ** _

_** I’m free Friday night, if you want. ** _

** Okay. Thank you, Meg. :D How does 6 sound? **

_** De nada. And yeah, that’ll work. ** _

A honk sounded from outside, snapping him out of it. Hurriedly, he tugged the shirt he was wearing over his head and replaced it with the one in his hands. It was slightly wrinkled from being bunched up so tightly, but it would have to do. He grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys from his dresser and headed out the door and down the steps, taking two at a time. 

“She’s picking you up?” Hester asked, looking puzzled. To herself, she murmured, “Strange generation, this is.”

By the time he’d made it down the drive to Dean’s car, he was panting. In the span of maybe three minutes, he’d managed to change and get out the door, leaving him exhausted. Once he’d opened the passenger side door and plopped onto the leather bench seat, he shut his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. 

He heard a muffled laugh and when he peaked an eye open to check, he found Dean staring at him, a smirk on his face, “You look like you just ran a marathon.”

“Yeah,” Cas said, clicking his seatbelt into place. “Kind of feels like I did too.”

“Ready to go?” Dean asked, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Cas nodded his assent and shut his eyes again, leaning his head back against the seat, and listening to the comforting rumble of the motor as the Impala pulled away from the curb and out into the street.

  
  


* * *

  
  


About twenty minutes later, sitting by the lake on a huge rock next to the water, Dean and Cas lay back watching the darkening sky. Cas had just finished telling him all about Hester’s strange conclusion, causing Dean to crack up laughing at the look of bewilderment on his friend’s face. Really, it was great how oblivious Cas was sometimes. 

“And what did you tell her?” Dean asked, looking over at the other boy, who was still staring up at the sky, unaware of the eyes studying him.

“Meg offered to pretend to be my girlfriend, so I told her I’d invited her to dinner this Friday,” Cas told him casually, like those words weren’t blades taken to Dean’s confidence.

“Oh,” Dean said simply, thinking of what he’d told his own father earlier that night. He wondered what Cas would think if he ever found out. “That’s cool.”

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas asked, looking over at his friend with concern written all over his face. Dean felt himself deflate a bit at the sight of it, suddenly feeling guilty for reacting the way he did. Cas didn’t know how Dean felt about him, so he really couldn’t be blamed for the pain he felt, but god did Dean wish he could wring Meg’s neck, even though logically he knew she wasn’t a threat.

“ Yeah, buddy, I’m fine,” Dean assured him with a forced smile, though he felt so far from fine. Fine was so far behind in his rearview mirror that it was a dot in the distance. No, instead here he was, pining over his friend like a loser. Sure, Cas was gay, but that didn’t suddenly mean he was interested in him. Maybe he had no reason to be jealous of Meg, but eventually he knew he’d have to watch the other boy with someone else, someone who wasn’t him. And the thought nearly killed him.

 


	12. Dean the Green-Eyed Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long, honestly, I didn't plan for it to take longer than maybe a week for the next chapter to be up, but then life happened and blah blah blah. I'm not even going to try to play the whole busy card, because I've managed to update my other fic and post two drabbles since the last chapter of Heaven Knows I posted, so I probably could have had this out much sooner, but I'm trash so that of course did not happen. So again, if anyone cares, I'm sorry and here's the next chapter. I promise not to take another two months to post the next one. Also, I apologize for how short this chapter is, I'll try to post the next one really soon, but I just wanted to get something out for you guys asap.

_**“I love you. I hate you. I like you. I hate you. I love you. I think you’re stupid. I think you’re a loser. I think you’re wonderful. I want to be with you. I don’t want to be with you. I would never date you. I hate you. I love you…..I think the madness started the moment we met and you shook my hand. Did you have a disease or something?”** _   
**― Shannon L. Alder**

 

Dean spent his Sunday morning at Charlie’s, pouring his aching heart out about Cas over her mother’s famous apple butter pancakes. He told her about how even when he’d first seen the other boy, he’d known he was doomed, and about how he fell asleep most nights with the image of bright blue eyes behind his eyelids. He let everything out, all the feelings he’d kept to himself, locked up as deep down as he could manage to hide them, and all the while Charlie just nodded and ‘mhmm’ed, letting him tell his story without interruptions. By the end, after Dean had told her about the incident with John and the conversation between him and Cas down by the lake, he felt a lot lighter, like he was no longer being held down by the weight of all those unsaid words. He felt better.

Charlie was quiet for a moment, reaching over and placing her hand on top of one of his and squeezing gently, “He likes you, you know.”

“Huh?” Dean said dumbly.

“Castiel. He likes you,” Charlie said, chuckling softly. “It’s kind of obvious, honey. Dorothy’s betting that one of you will make a move by Christmas. Personally, I bet you two would hold out until at least New Year’s.”

Charlie must have seen the hesitance in Dean’s eyes, because she looked surprised. She shook her head, giving her friend a small, sympathetic smile. “Jesus Christ,” she said, “You’re really the only person who doesn’t see it, aren’t you?”

“I just don’t get what there is to see,” Dean said, shrugging, though he felt a sort of emptiness inside of himself when the words he spoke fully sunk in. “Cas isn’t interested in me. Never would be, probably.”

Charlie raised her eyebrows, and, as if he were a young child who needed to have everything explained to him, spoke to him very slowly. “You, Dean Winchester, are blind if you don’t see how gone on you that boy is.”

“Or maybe you’re just seeing what you want to see,” Dean said simply, looking down at the table top, “I appreciate it, Char, really, I do, but we’ve got to be realistic here. _I_ have to be realistic.”

“Who isn’t being realistic?” Charlie said, throwing her hands up in the air. “Because I’m sure you’ll find that it’s not just me, and that our friends will also agree in large numbers. Everyone sees something between the two of you. The only idiots who don’t are you and Cas.”

“Who you calling a-”

“Not the point, Dean,” Charlie said in exasperation, “The point is that you like each other, but you’re both too chickenshit to do anything about it.”

Dean was quiet, not saying anything for a moment, “You know, for a little while I actually believed he might… you know, like me. I mean, I’ll admit to my side of it, staring and being all lovesick and shit. Fine, whatever. But Cas?” He looked disappointed, but resigned, “Just ‘cause he’s gay doesn’t mean he’s interested.”

“Well, it’s not like you ever gave him much to go with,” Charlie said, standing up and taking her empty plate to the sink to rinse it.

Dean opened his mouth to say something back that would shut Charlie and her logic right up, but found that he had absolutely no room to talk, not when the words 'I like you’ had never passed his lips in Cas’ presence.

“I thought… maybe…” But he had nothing, and he knew it.

“What? That Cas was some kind of mystical mind reader or whatever?” Charlie said in an incredulous way that made him pause and doubt, “Believe it or not, you’re not exactly an open book. Dean Winchester. In fact, you’re more like a locked diary that, even if you manage to unlock it, you find out is all written in code.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, a little harshly. He already felt like an idiot, and he really didn’t appreciate having all his mistakes pointed out. “I really appreciate that.”

“I’m just saying that Cas doesn’t seem like the type to come clean about something like that if he thinks it’s not even a possibility, ya know?” Charlie explained, coming back to the table and picking up Dean’s plate, also placing her other hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Like he keeps all his kings in the back row.”

“I’m not quite sure you used that quote correctly,” Dean said, brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of what his friend had just said. Maybe she wasn’t entirely delusional. “But sure, I guess.”

Charlie sighed, pulling her hand back, “You’re so damn dense sometimes, I swear.” She moved back to the sink, rinsing his as well and placing it on top of hers. “There is an upside to this, however.”

“And what’s that?” Dean asked, though he was hesitant.

Charlie smirked, drying her hands off on a dish towel, “I might just win that bet after all.”

 

* * *

 

_Blood, it was everywhere. The tiled floors were coated in the sticky, near-black liquid. Wasn’t blood supposed to be red? No, not when it was someone’s life blood. Red was when it was just a prick of a needle or a scrape, but this? Oh, this was so much worse. This was positively gory._

_Her eyes were still open, staring down the hall behind him at absolutely nothing. They’d never purposely stare at anything again._

_And then there was him, crouched down next to the girl, holding her hand and bawling, begging her to please wake up, for God or an angel or literally anyone who could do anything to please bring her back, make it not true._

_It was all his fault._

_ALLYOURFAULT. ALLYOURFAULT. ALLYOURFAULT._

Castiel’s eyes snapped open, the blank ceiling above him the first thing he saw. It had been awhile now since Cas’ last nightmare, weeks, even, yet here he was. This particular nightmare was one of his worse ones, the kind where it was like he was actually back there and he forgot that it was just a dream. It all felt so real, the warm blood soaking through his jeans, her cold hand in his, and the terror he felt in his very bones, everything felt like it was happening all over again.

There was a knock on the door, which thankfully snapped him out of it, taking his thoughts away from the dark direction they were headed. Without waiting for a response, the door was opened and Gabriel stuck his head in, meeting his brother’s eyes with a look of concern.

“Everything alright in here, bud?” Gabe asked, trying to sound casual, but his concern leaking through, “I heard a yell.”

Castiel forced a small smile, wanting to reassure his older sibling, “Just a nightmare.”

“Just?” Gabe asked, sounding like he wanted to disagree, but seeming like he knew better than to push Cas. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, “Do you… can I get you anything?”

Cas shook his head, but soon stopped, a question having come to mind. Almost as if he really didn’t want to know, he asked, “Where’s Hester?”

“You mean the witch?” Gabe asked, his usual smirk returning to his face. It brought Cas some comfort to see such a commonplace expression on his older brother’s face. “Ah, probably with the rest of the coven trying to steal children’s souls or something.”

“Getting pumped for the 13 Days of Halloween, I see,” Cas pointed out, smiling. Halloween was, if it wasn’t entirely obvious already, Gabriel’s favorite holiday. Pranks and treats, it was practically _made_ for him.

“Oh, you know it,” Gabe replied, his excitement almost palpable, “Casper and Corpse Bride and Beetlejuice…”

“Oh my!” Castiel exclaimed with a chuckle.

“That’s it!” Gabe said, nodding and smiling proudly, “Look at you, making references and shit. Soon you’ll be a sarcastic piece of shit like the rest of us.”

“Oh, joy,” Cas said, feigning enthusiasm.

“So what’s this I hear about you having a girlfriend?” Gabe asked, a look of confusion on his face as he leaned his shoulder up against the doorway, settling in for an explanation, “Is this an attempt by Hester to delude herself into thinking you like vagina? ‘Cause that’s a new level of pathetic, even for her.”

Castiel blushed, looking down and shaking his head, “Um, no. I um, I sort of told Hester that to get her off of my back.”

“Um, why?” Gabe asked, “You couldn’t have just told her no and left it at that? Hell, that’s what I do, and I don’t even have a boyfriend to hide. Perks of being a bisexual.”

Cas groaned, thinking about all the things he could have said or done, but no, he just had to go with the one that involves blatantly lying about who he is and living in the discomfort of having people think he had a girlfriend. Great. “Because our stepmother is a freak of fucking nature and honestly thinks that there’s a straight bone in my body.”

“She’s not a smart lady,” Gabe commented.

“No,” Cas said, letting out a humorless little laugh, “She is not.”

“So what’re you gonna do, Casanova?”

“Apparently my friend Meg is going to play my fake girlfriend for dinner on Friday, only I told Hester her name was Deanna, so that’s gonna be all kinds of fun trying to work around,” Cas said, not meeting his brother’s eyes when he felt them lock onto his face, which was only getting redder.

“Deanna… huh, why does that sound familiar?” Gabe asked himself, his tone alone showing that he was mocking his brother, even if the smirk on his face didn’t make it completely obvious.

“Shut up,” Cas said, picking up a pillow and holding it up to show his brother. “Leave.”

“Or else what? You’ll sic your boyfri-” Smack. The pillow hit him right in the face. When it fell to the floor, revealing Cas, holding yet another pillow, poised to throw, Gabe put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, leaving. See ya, Cassie.” And with a wink, Gabe shut the door behind him.

Cas let out a sigh, flopping down on his bed. He had a whole week until Friday, and if the churning worry in his gut was any indication of how the wait would be, he knew it wouldn't be fun.

  


 


	13. Fraying Nerves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I’ve got something,” Sam said, finally, and Dean let out a sigh of relief, dropping the newspaper in his hands onto the table. Yes, Sam was definitely the brains of the operation. The younger boy turned his laptop so Dean could read off the screen, which showed a news article dating back three months: St. Michael’s School Shooter Left Comatose After Tragedy. “It basically says that the shooter, Max Miller, has been comatose ever since the shooting, and that his parents, despite knowing what their son had done, refuse to allow doctors to pull the plug.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it's been forever since I updated, I know, but I've been pretty busy lately- I graduated high school, bought my first (used) car, etc. So yeah, pretty hectic. Anyway, after however long of waiting, here's the next chapter. :)  
> Oh, and I promise that I'll be starting the update for TKAA tonight, for those of you who read that one.

_“And yes, I’ll admit, I am jealous. I’m jealous of every minute you spend with him, of every concerned expression you send his way, of every tear shed, of every glance, every touch, and every thought. I want to rip him to pieces and purge him from your mind and from your heart. But I can’t.”_

**― Colleen Houck**

 

Dean was a natural when it came to hunting, always had been from the start. Weapons and hand-to-hand combat came easily to him, as he’d always been more of a hands-on kind of hunter. He could remember way back when he’d shot his first gun, a basic hunting rifle. His father had lined up cans on the fence in Bobby’s backyard, much to his annoyance, and Dean had proceeded to hit four out of the six. But research and all that studying crap? That was more Sammy’s expertise, as proven by their current set-up, Dean cleaning his sawed off shotgun, leaning back dangerously in his chair, while Sam was busy typing away on his laptop.

Sam sighed, pushing back some hair from where it hung down in front of his eyes, making Dean snort and Sam glare, crossing his arms. “Something you wanna say, Dean?” He asked.

Dean placed the gun down, leaning forward in his seat with a grin. “You need a haircut, man,” he said, reaching over, messing up his younger brother’s hair, causing him to curl in on himself, scowling. “And soon, before you start looking like a goddamn neanderthal.”

“It's not even that long!” Sam argued, though his face was beginning to turn beet red.

“Sammy, I could fucking braid it if I wanted to,” he said. To further his point, he lifted a lock of his sibling’s hair, which was longer than the length of his hand. “When a man's hair is at braiding length, it's time to cut it.”

Sam snorted,“Dean, half of the bands you listen to have male lead singers with hair longer than mine.”

“That's different,” Dean defended, though he seemed unconcerned, like he was already completely confident in what he’d said.

“How?”

“It just is,” Dean said with a smirk,“Rockstars can do whatever they want. Little shit head moose, however…”

“Boy. you leave your brother alone,” Bobby said, appearing in the doorway with his usual frown of disapproval. Dean was very familiar with that look, as he often did something to warrant its use. Looking between the brothers, at Sammy working and Dean, well, being Dean, he sighed, using his thumb and pointer finger to rub at the bridge of his nose. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping with research? The book ain’t gonna read itself.”

“Aw, Bobby, you know I’m not a book person,” Dean said, picking back up the gun, “That’s more Sammy’s thing than mine.”

Sam returned his attention to the book before him, but just the same, smirked and commented, “Uh huh, and that Vonnegut collection you have in your room is just a coincidence, I suppose.”

Dean sputtered a bit, finally settling on, “Vonnegut is an exception, okay?”

“And the Harry Potter books…”

“Okay,  _fine_ ,” Dean relented, narrowing his eyes, “I just don’t read boring shit, alright?”

“Boring?” Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow. “Boy, you’re the one who brought us this case. You’re the whole reason for the research.”

“Just ‘cause it’s necessary doesn’t mean it isn’t boring,” Dean retorted.

“Well, how about we focus on the necessary part and you just get the hell over the boring part, okay?” Bobby responded, leaving no room for argument, pushing a tall pile of newspapers toward the older Winchester, which he took with a petulant huff.

Soon after, Bobby had left the room with the intention of taking over the kitchen for Ellen, who was currently covering Dean’s shift so he could work on the case. Ellen wasn’t very fond of the idea of two young boys working a case, but just the same, she offered to let Dean off the hook, though she made it perfectly clear that he’d be making up for it later on.

After about an hour later, Dean was halfway through the stack, yet he felt no closer to finding anything that could help them and was seriously considering ripping his hair out. This was just one example of why he shouldn’t be the one doing research, not only did nothing get done, but he had the patience of a small child, which didn’t help any.

“I think I’ve got something,” Sam said, finally, and Dean let out a sigh of relief, dropping the newspaper in his hands onto the table. Yes, Sam was definitely the brains of the operation. The younger boy turned his laptop so Dean could read off the screen, which showed a news article dating back three months:  **St. Michael’s School Shooter Left Comatose After Tragedy**. “It basically says that the shooter, Max Miller, has been comatose ever since the shooting, and that his parents, despite knowing what their son had done, refuse to allow doctors to pull the plug.”

“Well, yeah,” Dean said, shrugging. “I mean, it’s their kid, right? No one wants to just quit on their kid.”

Sam looked at his older brother, his face contorted in such a way that you’d have thought he had ten heads or something. “Dean, he killed people. Would you really be that defensive of your kid if they did something that horrible?”

Dean was quiet for a moment, but eventually he sighed, “I think I'd be concerned. Kid loads a gun and walks into a school, they've gotta have problems, right?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, slowly, like he was talking to a child, “Only these particular problems left three people dead. I’m pretty sure that’s what most people would look at as a lost cause.”

“Well, what about me?” Dean asked, crossing his arms.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, looking like he had no idea what the hell his brother was talking about. “What about you?”

“I’ve killed people before,” Dean said almost flippantly, his cheeks puffing out in defiance, though he would’ve probably denied them ever doing so if it were pointed out. “Does that make me a lost cause?”

“Dean-” Sam tried, only to be cut off by his older sibling.

“I’m gonna go see how Ellen and Bobby are holding up out there. Seems like you’ve got this covered,” Dean said, standing up and moving toward the door without even glancing back at his brother. “I’ll bring you back some dinner in a little while. I’m thinking we’re probably going to be here pretty late hashing this all out.”

Before Sam could so much as open his mouth to respond, he was met with the door swinging behind his brother, leaving him alone and full of guilt.

* * *

_Lunch was a time that was normally peaceful. The two of them always packed their own and hid out in the old art room, the lock for which had been broken since at least their freshman year, since that was when they had discovered the little hideaway. In the art room, they were safe._

_“You know,” Max began one day, a rare smile on his normally solemn face, “That new girl, Hael, talked to me today in Chemistry.”_

_“Yeah?” Cas asked, genuinely curious. This was pretty rare, but it still happened occasionally. New kid moves into town and doesn’t know how things work, the social hierarchy and all, so they slip up and talk to the losers. Mostly it was just painful to watch, because every single time without fail, his friend got his hopes up, only to have them shot down when they started avoiding him. “What’s she like?”_

_“She’s… sweet. And so nice,” Max said, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh! And she even laughed when I made a joke. You know the one about the fake noodle?”_

_“You mean the ‘impasta’ joke?” Cas asked, shaking his head and sighing, “Man, that’s a terrible joke. Even I don’t laugh, and I’m your best friend.”_

_“All the more reason to assume she actually likes me,” Max said, and just when Cas opened his mouth to be honest, to warn his friend not to get his hopes up too high, he was met with a pair of hopeful pale blue eyes, and, being the huge softie he was deep down, he cracked._

_“I met her earlier in English, she seems... nice,” Cas said, only to be met with an enthusiastic but completely distracted nod from his friend, who was so obviously getting in way too deep, but Cas kept his mouth shut. He really wished he hadn’t._

__

* * *

“So, exactly how do you wanna do this, Clarence?” Meg asked Cas at lunch the next day, sitting so close that she and Cas were practically hip to hip. Dean felt the anger thrumming in his veins, just watching the two of them, but he tried to tamp it down. Cas was gay, after all, and Meg was just his friend. The only reason they were acting like this was to trick his stepmother.

“What do you mean?” Cas asked, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth. Now, normally Dean would find that absolutely disgusting, but looking at Cas with his puffed out cheeks, head tilted sideways in confusion at Meg, he had to admit it was kind of cute.

“The dinner, dumbass,” Meg told him, rolling her eyes. “Exactly what do you want me to do? I wouldn’t have to try very hard to make her hate me, if that’s your goal.”

“No,” Cas said, swallowing his food and picking up a napkin from his tray to wipe at his face, which had a bit of ketchup on it, right at the corner of his mouth. “I want her to like you. That way, when and if I ever need an excuse to be out for awhile, I could just tell Hester I’m with you.”

She raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Smart and cute,” Meg studied Cas, a small smile forming on her lips, “You know, it really is a shame you don’t bat for my team, Clarence. You’re exactly my type.”

Dean clenched his fists tightly, but forced them to remain at his sides. He was sure Cas wouldn’t be too fond of him diving across the table to defend his honor. If anything, it’d probably just make his painfully obvious crush that much more obvious. But seriously, what part of gay was this bitch not getting?

Cas blushed, looking down at his food, “Um, thanks, I guess.”

“You are absolutely welcome,” Meg said, only this time, she caught Dean’s eye across the table and winked. Turning her attention back to the brunet boy next to her, she placed her hand on his arm, which only served to make him blush harder. “And what about school? Do you need any help ‘passing’ in front of them?”

“Uh, well I already belong to the GSA, so I think that ship has pretty much sailed, Meg,” Cas said, smiling politely and slowly, as if trying not to alert her, pulling his arm back, away from the girl. “But thank you.”

“Shame,” Meg said, looking genuinely disappointed.

“And besides, the people around here know you, Meg,” Dean said, a bit too harshly, if he were to be honest, “Cas doesn’t want people thinking he’s slutting around with the likes of you.”

“Dean!” Cas said indignantly, looking at Dean with shock and disappointment, and Dean’s ego shrunk in on itself a bit, leaving him with a twisting feeling in his gut.

Something very much like hurt flashed in Meg’s dark eyes, only to disappear almost instantly, leaving nothing but an icy stare and a matching smug smirk, “And exactly who would you suggest, Dean? I mean, we all know you want him all for yourself, but-”

“Meg!” Cas said, now turning his glare on Meg, who almost immediately lost her smirk, “Now, I don’t agree with what Dean said either, but that doesn’t mean you have to go ahead and make a rude comment back.”

Dean, glancing around the table at his friends, who were giving him a mixture of sympathetic and surprised looks, suddenly felt very out of place. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something to break the awkward silence, but found that nothing would come out. Instead, he grabbed his books off of the table, swinging his leg over the bench he sat on, and quickly stood up, not even facing his friends. “I um, I think I’m just going to go to the library and work on my Physics homework. I didn’t really get the chance to work on it last night.”

And without another word or any kind of protest from his friends, who all seemed to know better than to question it, Dean hurried away from the table, head down and face burning with shame, toward the cafeteria doors, letting them swing shut behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm not really sure how this fic is going to work out, but I guess if enough people like it, and I haven't offended basically everyone ever, then I'll continue it. So, what do you say? Comment and tell me what you think.


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